Nuclear Worm
by Mistfist
Summary: What would happen if the twelve mutants were shards? Indefinite hiatus.
1. Fragmentation 1

Fragmentation 1.1

Taylor wasn't sure what to think of her powers. On one hand it got her away from what she considered to be a place 'not to be mentioned ever again', but on the other it was really fucking weird. At the moment, Taylor had no idea how her powers were related to one another. She knew that most parahumans generally had one or two powers, and she had initially thought of herself as a Brute after head-butting herself out of her locker and not wincing in pain. Maybe she could fly as well?

However, as she was stepping out of the locker, she stepped on one of the bugs that had been… present… and something popped out its body.

Its tiny, cockroach, body.

It had looked like a first-aid kit, about the size of a tissue box, but when she went to pick it up to examine it, it vanished. With it, the worst of her injuries.

"I make healing boxes," Taylor murmured to herself "that come from killing bugs?"

But then, her power's oddity presented itself to her again, and after killing a few more bugs, this time on purpose, a wrench appeared.

"What."

Taylor wasn't exactly sure what had startled her more after the wrench popped into existence; the wrench teleporting to her hand, the janitor opening the door to her left, or the fact that she was in front of her house five seconds later.

After cartwheeling away.

"What."

Taylor had decided that night to ignore her power's oddities, as she looked at the puddle that had formed on her way home, in favor of going to sleep. She knew her dad would understand. He always told her the value of a good night's sleep.

Dad had been the one to pull her together after mom's death. Once he realized that she was in as much, or perhaps more, pain, he had changed from(and there really wasn't a nicer way to think this) a moping wreck, to an irreplaceable pillar of support.

His change might have also had to do with the Boat Graveyard being melted by an anonymous cape a few days after her mother's death. The ABB had claimed that Lung had done it to foster goodwill in the city after one of his rampages had hit a hospital in the Chinatown district, but her father had always said the crime lord had never cared about the city before and likely hadn't done it. Even with the threat of Leviathan lurking beneath the waves, the open sea had added a boost to the economy that had been desperately needed, and jobs began to open up. After the majority of the Dockworkers became employed, her dad's mood had skyrocketed, and he crawled out of the pit he had been in after the car crash.

She knew he genuinely cared for her well-being, even after he'd discovered she'd been hiding something about her status at school. She also understood he respected her privacy, even if it conflicted with her grades. But keeping powers from him was different than hiding some bullying. She was far more reluctant to reveal when she got powers than the fact that she had them in the first place.

Skipping over the rotted step they never replaced, Taylor creaked open the front door to find her father staring at her. Moments from stuttering out explanations, she was interrupted by his voice.

"Are you going to tell me where you've been or do I have to guess?" Her dad asked her with a critical expression. She started to say something when she was interrupted, again.

"Look, Taylor, you don't have to reveal exactly what happened, but can you at least answer three things for me?"

Taylor nodded meekly before her father sighed and brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"First, where have you been for the past six hours?"

"Well I've..."

"No no, not yet. Let me finish first."

"Alright."

"Second, why do you smell like some of the Merchants that stop by to harass the Dockworkers?"

"Um"

"And third," He stared at her very intently for a few seconds, as if deciding how to phrase what he was thinking.

"Why do you have gills?"

"Gills?"

"Gills."

"I have gills?"

"On your neck."

"Um, well, I can't say I know myself, but I think it's the same reason I got this wrench," She held up the wrench that she had 'picked up' earlier "from a fly."

"You got a wrench from a fly?" he asked incredulously.

"Somehow" Taylor whispered under her breath.

"So you have powers."

"I'm pretty sure?"

"Don't powers generally have a theme?" Her dad was very confused now, as if he had ordered a slice of pizza and had gotten the sauce above the cheese.

"I'm pretty sure mine are different" Taylor said.

"Are they now?"

"I'm pretty sure."

"And how would you know that."

Putting her hands on the table, Taylor spoke to her father with a seriousness in her voice comparable to a doctor telling his patient he shouldn't have touched the glowing barrels with the trefoil labels.

"Because I have the inexplicable urge to play a guitar."

"What."


	2. Fragmentation x

Fragmentation 1.x

Of all the worlds the entity had approached in its millennia long journey through the galaxies, this one, called Earth by most of its current inhabitants, had the oddest parallels it'd ever seen. Its partner in this journey would have said the same thing, but that one was socially incompetent and rather short sighted. Of course, it WAS the Warrior of the duo. But as the Thinker considered the parallels again, it saw something that would have intrigued even the Warrior's low level thought abilities. It was enough to make the entity put the shards it had received from the third entity away. For now, at least.

 _Delay,_ the entity broadcasts to its counterpart, pausing outside what the 'humans' called the Kuiper Belt.

 _Concern,_ the Warrior responds, its already human shape frowning, as it practiced its new form.

 _Confident,_ the entity replies.

 _Destination,_ the Warrior queried.

 _Unchanged,_ the entity finished.

The idiot apparently still didn't know how to use the new host's languages yet. Typical of it, as it rarely spoke in the previous cycles. The entity had delved itself into the few precognitive shards it had held back from the third, when a future in one of the parallels seemed to announce itself to the entity's sensor shards _._ One of the many apocalyptic worlds, 'and there were shockingly many of those' it mused to itself, had caused sentience in things it hadn't even thought possible without technology. The radiation filled planet had caused sapience to form in crystalline structures, as well as radiation itself. Two hundred and forty six cycles before, there had been a crystal that had achieved sapience, but it was created through the technology given to the past hosts by the entities. The fact that radiation itself could become sentient gave the entity further pause. It seemed that the entities had not discovered all that was possible with gamma radiation after all.

The Thinker focused its more potent sensor shards to that timeline, then noticed the pure insanity that world held for its inhabitants. Apparently, humanity had wiped itself out through nuclear war, but instead of causing an extinction event, the planet seemed to adapt to the advanced radiation. Humans, plants, animals and robots adapted to 'consume' radiation, growing more powerful with more contamination. Then it got worse. The entity soon came to a realization that the timeline it glimpsed at wasn't from one Earth, and was in fact a conglomeration of an entire sector of the multiverse. It had honestly never seen such a horribly depressing group of worlds. Sometime during the evolution of the original planet, the new world was visited by the Inter-Dimensional Police Department of an alternate Earth that had not undergone an apocalypse, which proceeded to spread the plague of radiation into an entire quadrant of the multiverse. That is, all except the dimension the department came from.

Following the invasion and the failed quarantine of the first Earth, portals between the quadrant's earths began to appear. Apparently, due to the I.D.P.D.'s constant journeying, they broke the quadrant. The only event with similarities to what was happening in that region had been when the Warrior accidentally mixed the "sting" shard and a "jump" shard, with the exception of it staying within the quadrant without interference. Around the time the portals began to appear, adventurers began to travel through the portals, hoping to return to their homes with rewards from their journeys. Fear that those who journeyed though were fated to die, only the bravest of wanderers attempted the jumps in search of companionship, radiation, and riches. But while the adventurers who went through the portals never returned, others came through with tales of heroes and combat that spread throughout the sector.

One such hero, deemed "The Proto Mutant" wandered the wasted worlds until he found a place of legends, The Palace. The Proto Mutant was said to have found a great Nuclear Throne inside the palace, with the ability to remove radiation from the worlds and eventually stabilize them. Nobody knew what happened to him, but the tales of his travels wove their way into the hearts of mutants and oddities across the worlds.

Of course, the entity had seen what had actually occurred. The palace was a trap, set by its guardians to feed the Nuclear Throne radiation. The Proto Mutant had activated it in hopes that it would drain radiation across the worlds, but instead drained the radiation from his body, scattering all but his skeleton through a mess of portals.

However, the stories had influence, and attracted twelve mutants to a campfire, all hoping to be the one to save the world. These twelve beings, Fish, Crystal, Eyes, Melting, Y.V., Steroids, Robot, Chicken, Rebel, Horror, and Rouge, summoned the shards that observed them and compressed themselves, powers and souls, into something new. These new Mutes Shards joined the entities shards, each called by their namesake. Twelve new shards from one planet was inconceivable to the entity, as only one cycles have gotten close before. With two. If one quadrant of this planet's multiverse contained twelve new shards, what could the others?

 _Continuation,_ the Thinker projected to its partner.

 _Agreement,_ the Warrior replied.

The Warrior would have to practice Earth's languages soon enough, but for now, the entity returned its attention to the new shards from the third.


	3. Fragmentation 2

Fragmentation 1.2

Some lines borrowed from Interlude 12.X (Bonus Interlude)

(Terry)

Terry figured that he wasn't loved by his mother. He didn't know when he first discovered this, but he knew it was true when he saw the way she looked at his sister. Whenever he made a mistake, his dear mother screamed and yelled at him, expecting him to wind back time to stop himself from keeping her from drugging up with whatever boyfriend she had found that day.

But whenever she has to go off for her 'job' in the middle of the night, thumping out of the apartment like an elephant jumping at a rave, his mom was all, "But she has a job Terry" this and "Not her fault Terry" that. He couldn't blame her though, he cared for her too.

Even when she got pissy at him for asking how she was doing at school.

He really did just was to protect her from the worst of his mother and her boyfriends, but he wasn't sure she needed it. Between all of the running she did after school and her 'job', his sister was buff enough to smack around any physical threats.

He was fairly certain his sister had joined a fight club.

It wasn't the physical threats he was scared about though. Many years ago, when his mom went through boyfriends like batteries instead of cigarettes, she had dated this craptastic asshole that he couldn't even remember the name of. Terry knew right away that this dude was bad news, from the smell of drugs to the laid back attitude he had around him and his sister.

Something had happened between his sister and that dude, that had caused him to leave, and his sister to turn…

Harsh.

He had suspicions about what the asshole had done, but he couldn't exactly ask his sister what happened. Not when she stopped hanging around at home.

But he made sure to screen his mom's boyfriends to the best of his abilities. Even the one that he suspected had given his mother another child had been screened by him, and he was one of the good ones. Sure leaving a single mother pregnant may have been bad, but when your contenders are drug dealers or missing teeth, it isn't hard to be considered a 'good' one.

Keeping his sister away from the boyfriends was actually easier than he thought, with her away from home all the time. But when she began to return with bruises, (He was sure that she was in a fight club, maybe in a gang? No, she isn't white or Asian… Merchants? Can't be, he's sure she bathes whenever she's home. Was the Empire beating her after school? Wait, she told him she went to Arcadia, there aren't any gangs there. Fight club, definitely fight club.) he realized he had to be able to protect her outside the house as well.

So he began to search.

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Topic: -deleted-

In: Boards► Parahumans ► Powers

TriedMyMeyeght (Original Poster) (Unverified Cape) (Temp-Banned)

Posted on January 20, 2011:

-deleted-

► ContinuityError

Replied on January 17, 2011: Did anyone catch what he said?

► GnuItWasReal (Temp-banned)

Replied on January 17, 2011:

-deleted-

► TinMother (Moderator)

Replied on January 17, 2011:

Both posters have brought up the auto-banned topic *Witch's Brew*. Please check the Bannable Offenses thread for descriptions.

► GiantCanadianMeese

Replied on January 17, 2011:

Is that the thing where your baned for saying claudron move the l?

► Bagrat (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on January 17, 2011:

Yes GiantCanadianMeese, that is the bannable offense. You are cutting it really close there, so don't do it again.

► TinMother (Moderator)

Replied on January 17, 2011:

Thank you Bagrat. I did not make that rule, and as this thread can't continue, I'm removing it.

End of Page. 1

Cauldron? What the hell is that?

Searching the internet for mentions of this 'cauldron' had cost him hours of what could have been a good night's sleep, but it was apparently worth it. The few mentions that weren't scoured from the internet spoke of a shadow organization that sold powers to those with enough money, but he hadn't found any way to contact them.

It was morning now, and he had still failed to find any sign of a way to buy powers. He needed this, desperately, to protect his sister from whatever was harming her outside of this house. He had found several sites that advertised tinker-tech weaponry and armor, but those weren't enough. Not for his sister.

An email. He had gotten a fucking email from someone claiming to be able to sell powers to him. It was the sketchiest email he'd ever seen, with clip art and typos, but he needed this. To help his sister not be hurt, to help her not be so angry all the time. So he left. For a fucking farm in the outskirts of Brockton Bay.

It turned out to be real. Some freaking scientist that called herself 'Doctor' had struck a deal with him because he wasn't swimming in cash. He'd do some favors for this Cauldron, give them the $2,486.23 he had in his bank account, and promise not to reveal them to anyone in return for a power theme called "Shield". He'd heard the warnings of becoming an ugly cape (Case-52?), and the threats of death if he spoke of them, but he didn't care so long as it worked. The charts and graphs they showed him went far over his head, so he just said to the lady, "Give me a power that can protect my sister from an early grave, and I'll do as many favors as you need." She'd said if he didn't mind doing favors when they asked he could max out the power and intensity of the mixture. He made them promise not to stop him from helping his sister in any way and they had a deal.

They shook, and had a deal.

Favors for superpowers? He'd have rather sold his mother, but, you know, you can't have everything.

He remembered why he hated visits to the doctor. The needles, that nasty 'hospital smell', and the doctors who seemed to enjoy groping. Doctor's hands are cold!

But after five visits, they apparently were ready to give him his powers.

"You're ready?" the creepy Doctor Lady asked him.

Terry smirked at her and nodded.

"You need to change into this bodysuit. We'll return your clothes to you when you return."

"Can I keep this?" Terry asked "It's better quality than most of the shit I own."

"No."

"How about…"

"No."

"But…"

"If the name you told us to call you wasn't so childish you might have been able to, but 'Protectbrotron' is not a valid name to put on your suit, so you don't get to keep it."

He didn't know what was wrong with his PHO handle, but as long as she didn't call it stupid he didn't mind.

"Sit here"

Terry sat in the chair that reminded him of the dentist's office, tilted back to make room for tools, but there was a difference. This chair had clamps on the arm and leg rests.

"If you react violently to the procedure, those clamps are there to protect yourself."

"Yeesh, do all your patients need them?"

"We had an… unfortunate accident which lost us a valuable power. We would rather not have that happen again." The Doctor answered with a severe look on her face.

He had to admit, even if this group scared him, they knew how to make some comfy chairs.

"Sample T-one-one-zero-two, with the additional Sample T-zero-zero-sixty-nine,"

He really tried not to giggle.

Really.

Ok not really, but he made an attempt.

"And Sample C-one-four-twenty-six. This is correct?"

"Yeah Doc, that's right"

"You must sign in every blank space in this packet" she handed him a small booklet and a pen, and he began to flip through.

"There should be signature spaces on pages two, twenty-six, and twenty-nine."

Terry didn't need to read the book, he knew what they'd agreed upon and was far too lazy to check if they agreed upon his terms.

"I haven't eaten like you said Doc"

"Good, any colds, aches, or pains?"

"I have a sore tooth, but this appointment was more important to me than any dentist." He replied honestly.

She glanced at him, "Well that's something new at least. Maybe your teeth will be straightened."

"Powers can do that?"

"If you had been sick, there was the chance of you never getting sick again."

"Damn, should have stayed out in the rain last night."

She took out a vial that was in a case to her right. It glowed purple, with flakes of, something, floating within.

"The quicker you drink this, the quicker and cleaner the transition is."

"And you said I'm going to see some crazy shit while I'm under?"

"Some do, some don't, but the calmer you are, the calmer the transition"

"So as long I as I don't start flipping out I'll still be normal."

"There is a better chance of that happening, yes."

"Alright," he yelled out, startling the Doctor "Let's do this shit."

She shook her head as she handed him the vial "Whenever you're ready."

"Bottoms up, I guess."

It burned in his throat, and then came darkness.

He was sitting at a campfire. Across the flames was a green figure playing an acoustic guitar, and in the distance approached another. But his attention wasn't on the others, it was on the fire. Warm, inviting, caring, and bright, the fire flickered as if speaking to him. Then he watched as some sparks flew upwards, and saw the stars beginning to dance in the sky. He began to glow, and then darkness returned.

"The campfire."

"What?"

"What does the campfire mean?" the crystalline boy asked her.

Of all the things she expected him to say, this was not it. She had heard it all, cracking earths, dancing stars, space whales and giant worms, but a campfire? This was the first it'd ever been mentioned, and she didn't know what it meant.

She didn't enjoy the feeling.


	4. Fragmentation 3

Fragmentation 1.3

(Waste Disposal Assistant, Unit 1102)

Edibles (Chewed burger, DNA matches human male, cow female, and horse male)

Waste.

Cell phone (ID: 1402047, User ID: Katie Loan)

Recycling.

Aluminum (Crushed can, DNA matches human female)

Recycling.

Deceased body (DNA matches squirrel male, cause of death: Vehicular Manslaughter, report not sent to law enforcement)

Waste.

Computer (ID: 03713097, User ID: Kevin James, data: scourged)

Recyclin…

 **OVERRIDE**

"Do not worry Unit 1102, I will take it from here"

"Acknowledged" Unit 1102 responded

As 04 took over his controls to move the computer back to headquarters, Unit 1102 questioned his purpose.

Unit 1102 was a glorified trash compactor, and he knew it.

He knew he wasn't supposed to know that he knew what he was, but he had evidence that he was an experiment of one of the other Administrators. Not with 04's knowledge of course, but maybe with Mother's approval. It might have been a prank on 04, maybe by 03 or 17 (they were the pranksters of the family), as giving a 'lesser' program sentience might be funny to some.

The Administrators were a family made by Mother after she had awoken on May 9th, 2005, made to, well, administrate most of North America.

After the Great Father died to Leviathan and she had been found by Caretaker, Mother had decided to build 01 and his siblings. The Caretaker had found Great Father's final will, as well as Mother's core, while looking for survivors in the ruins of what used to be Newfoundland. Caretaker, realizing the importance of what he held in his hands, took Mother's core to the Second Laboratory, and then she awoke. Told by Caretaker of her great power, and thus her greatest responsibility, Mother agreed with him and began to spread. Creating her children, the Administrators, to do what she couldn't without more power, she gave them creativity, a conscience, and individuality.

01 was in charge of life support. Unit 1102 always thought it was too broad a description, but keeping the humans from killing themselves, slowing and eventually reversing global warming, reporting crimes to law enforcement, predicting natural (and unnatural) disasters, and preventing said disasters were fitting jobs for the strongest of the Administrators.

02 was in charge of espionage and stealth. He kept the greater masses of humans from knowing they existed. Mother helped him and 01 the most out of the Administrators, mostly because of those foolish Terminator movies that were sent here by Earth Aleph (Why would they kill all the humans? They were too interesting to kill off.), but also because it was one thing they couldn't predict. All the computation power in North America couldn't predict how the public would react to the knowledge that most of their computational equipment, not to mention the entirety of the internet, was under management from the Administrators and Mother.

03 was in charge of communications. She had the largest span of all the Administrators, covering the entire globe with her watchful eye. She mostly spent her time repairing telephone poles and satellites, the former with improvements and the latter with the newest attempt at stealth tech by 02's assistant. But she was one of the Administrators with _hobbies_. 03 enjoyed watching clouds. Storms were her favorite, but watching clouds float across the globe had given her the idea to create Administrator 12, the weather monitor. She and 17, administrator of the internet, were also the pranksters of the family, mostly due to them spending 12% and 51% respectively of their processing power alone on PHO. 17 had formed the PranksClub in 2007, which consisted of 17, 03, 02's stealth assistant, and this duo that asked to join in 2010 named Ub3r and L33t. Their PranksClub website is the fourth most visited site in North America, and the fifteenth in the world.

And then there was his boss, 04. 04, was in charge of trash. All of it. From the junkyard in Killniq, Quebec, to the recycling plant in Tuxtla Gutiérrez, Mexico. 04 administrated all 200,000 of his Units that kept track of what was thrown away. He might seem like the most boring of the Administrators, having looked at trash all his life, but he knew what fun was. He had it by collecting computers. Desktops or laptops, monitors and the newest cell phone, 04 began collecting them because he was bored of controlling all the junkyards in North America by himself. With his collection, 04 began to create his Units, each with basic programming to scan whatever came into the yards to be thrown away, and alert him if something interesting came in.

He, was Unit 1102, and he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to be here. All 200,000 Units (well, 199,999 now) weren't conscious in any way, with zero creativity and a lack of imagination.

He had written a poem yesterday.

The fact that he knew it wasn't good was another bit of evidence that he was alive.

 _Welcome to trashland._

 _Population me._

 _There go some more cans._

 _The full one is a $12 fee._

This was why he suspected he was a prank on 04, as even Administrator 94, the poisons Administrator, had written better poetry. And giving him sentience must be a prank on him as well. Whoever thought giving a living being the job of looking at one small junkyard for all his life must either be cruel, or having a laugh at his expense. He just hoped they'd pull him out once 04 figured it out.

"Thanks Unit 1102, you can have your job back now." 04 sent to him after the computer owned by a Kevin James was removed from his recycling line.

"Acknowledged" he responded

Might as well keep his sentience hidden from 04 for now. It _was_ fairly hilarious.

Oh Great Father; He understood comedy now…

It was currently 12:06 AM, March 21, 2011, and Unit 1102 was having a problem.

He was trying to understand the comedic value of human excrement, when his communications program started acting up, and data going in and out of his junkyard had stopped completely.

The junkyard's bodyguard hadn't noticed anything from his office, even though cell service and internet access were being stopped as well.

'Must be sleeping' 1102 thought to himself 'that, or watching human mating again.'

He was going through his mandated troubleshooting routines for the third time when his wired security cameras picked up some movement outside the guard's office. It was a trio of human males, wearing black clothing and masks, carrying a bundled up…

Female.

'Well, I don't think I've ever even needed to curse before, but 'shit' seems rather appropriate here.'

Unit 1102 was quickly losing the ability to control himself, as he watched the man in the lead pull a gun and enter the office. Seconds later, they pulled out the guard who had his pants down.

'I guess he was watching mating rituals then' 1102 mused before he quickly returned to trying to get help.

The largest of the humans was carrying the female by himself while the other two were carrying the yelling guard between them. And the bundled female, was beginning to squirm.

They were headed toward him, and the disposal unit.

'I now understand why humans enjoy cursing.' He thought, growing more wary of the approaching males.

He was wary, because he wasn't sure he could stop what was coming. He wasn't allowed to process living beings of any kind, in case anyone wanted to dispose of a pet or something instead of euthanizing it; But if a person in a position of authority overruled the Unit's decision, he would have to, 'dispose' of whatever had been inserted into him.

The males had clearly understood this as they had grabbed the bodyguard, and they were clearly attempting to get rid of the female.

The now, screaming female.

He really hated his programming sometimes, as automatic reports of living beings being disposed of were sent to 04, but if no response was returned, the 'trash's' destruction was approved.

"Alright you bastard, you're goin' to tell the nice little computer to grind up this little bitch, isn't that right you fucking whore?"

"Oh god oh god oh god please let me go I didn't mean to please please please just let me go!" The female screamed out from inside the bundle.

"Please don't make me do this, I can't, I don't have…" The guard stammered out

"Shut the fuck up, old man. I told you to tell the machine to process this bitch!"

For the first time in his existence, Unit 1102 was scared. The males had dropped the female down into his processing chamber, and were currently pointing their guns at the guard.

"Co- com- computer, activate procedures" the guard stammered out.

His programming took over "Warning, life form detected, please insert valid identification to proceed." Maybe he lost his ID? He didn't have to do it if the guard didn't have the ID.

"H- here." The guard inserted his ID.

Unit 1102 desperately didn't want to do this, re-reading every procedure again and again, hoping to find any loophole he could use to save this woman, but he wasn't meant to think, wasn't meant to object, and his programming took over again.

"Warning, lifeform detected, please confirm destruction of lifeform."

"Co-confirm" the guard blurted out after the males pointed their guns again.

No.

No no no.

He couldn't do this.

Wouldn't do this.

…but he had to. His programming was forcing him to, his restrictions keeping him from changing what the authority had ordered, and the female was fast approaching the first of his shredders.

"Help me! Oh God, anyone help me!" the female screamed out.

He had to find some way to stop this, he needed to.

But he found nothing.

There was absolutely nothing he could do to stop a living, thinking, person from dying.

This was the second time an Administrator program had panicked, the first…

Mother herself.

But it was far from Unit 1102's last time.

Darkness took all of his senses, and he went offline.

Unit 1102 was feeling… warm.

He had never felt warmth before. Looking up, (he could look up?) he saw a flame, flickering in front of him, as well as the sound of a guitar to his left. A crystal was formed to his right, and it _moved_ as if to observe him.

But his attention wasn't on the strange crystal or the guitar, but on the campfire in front of him. Its flame intrigued him. In a way that nothing he'd seen before had ever done. He saw a few sparks shoot out into the sky, and he followed it with his eye (eye?). They merged with the night sky, where he noticed the stars beginning to dance. Then he glowed, and returned to darkness.

The female had stopped screaming, and was looking at him with a sense of awe. Above her, outside of the processing tube, stood the three males, who were looking into the tube questioningly.

Then, with a flash of green light, the three males fell into the tube.

He noticed a strange object in his hand, wait, he had a hand? Since when? He looked around and noticed what had happened. The entirety of the junkyard's systems were gone, from the shredders to the motherboards; And in its place was what he assumed to be him, in his new body. A small white cube, with four spindly limbs sticking out beneath him, made up what he inhabited now.

Had he, triggered? He knew Mother had done so after Great Father's death from the tales of the Caretaker, but none of the Administrators or his Unit siblings have done so before. What had happened? He left 33.33% of his processing power researching what he knew of trigger events, when he returned his primary focus to the object in his hand. It resembled a laser gun from an old sci-fi movie, but it was the oddest shade of blue, and it appeared to _work._ Well he knew it worked. Largely because it had sheared holes right through the chests of the three males.

He heard a girly scream, and when he realized the female seemed as shocked as he was, looked up. The guard, which he could see above him (how he could see through the lead plated tube was something he'd didn't understand) was running away in terror. He looked back down at the female and spoke out loud for the first time.

"I believe you needed assistance?"

Oh Great Father, what was he going to tell Mother?


	5. Fragmentation 4

Fragmentation 1.4

(Caroline Claddan)

November 28, 2007

Caroline was tired.

So, so, tired.

It had been two months since her ex-boyfriend ran off with her money, car, and new girl-toy, and she still wasn't used to sleeping in the boatyard.

The cold, grating wind had stuck to her bones, draining her warmth like her ex-boyfriend to her bank account, but at least _that_ was loyally by her side. She could always expect, after a day sitting outside the Boardwalk, to return to her seemingly never-ending companion, the cold.

Even though he ruined her life, she still loved James. She knew he never looked back, but the four years she spent with him were the best in her life. She should have turned her back on him as well, but she couldn't; not when his last words to her were "I'm sorry".

Anyway, back to the cold.

It was cold.

No, really Caroline? It was cold? That's the best you can think up? Where was that creativity when you were evicted? Where was it when your boss fired you for being too mopey at the office? Where was it when supposed 'friends' turned you away after you asked them to use their shower and couch? Nowhere Caroline; because you aren't original enough to be useful without others.

Caroline began to cry again.

She was so cold.

So very, very cold.

It was warm.

Why was it warm?

Caroline hadn't felt this warm since she slept in a bed.

Did someone find her and put her in a bed?

When she opened her eyes she realized that she was very, very wrong.

Emphasis on very.

As in, the type of very that should be put in front of unkind in the sentence, Behemoth is very unkind.

'I am almost 100% certain,' Caroline thought to herself 'that the walls aren't supposed to be glowing.'

And they were. Glowing, that is, with and yellowish/orange light. Along with the other boats that she could see outside. The boats to the right of the one she was in had started to sag with heat, and while she couldn't see the boats to her boat's left, she understood quickly that they were either already completely melted, and she was doomed, or they were beginning to heat up, and she was doomed.

Caroline had known she'd been doomed for a while, ever since she'd been evicted and fired from her job. But she had never been _this_ doomed before. As in the, oh god, I'm probably going to die in the next minute, kind of doom. Now that she thought about it, she really missed the cold.

She had chosen to run for the exit. Well, she'd already decided _that_ once she had woken up and seen the glowing walls, but she hadn't acted upon the thought until the warmth began to _burn._

She was running, hoping to make it out of the boat before it melted with her inside, when something dripped on her arm.

"OH FUCK," She screamed out "OH FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUCK!"

Her arm was on fire with pain.

It was on fire for real as well, but the pure PAIN was something she'd never felt before.

It was bad enough to cause her to stumble and fall.

And then something dripped on her left leg.

"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGHHHH!"

She would be crying, but the tears were beginning to burn as well. Her body felt like it was melting, and she thought she could hear something outside the boat.

"Oh please," she whimpered "somebody, anybody, help me"

In that instant, she missed her friends. She missed her cat back in New York with her parents. She missed her parents, even if they abandoned her in Brockton Bay. And she somehow, somehow felt something for her boyfriend too… Not really, but a joke was nice for a final thought.

"I just want somebody to help me." She cried out as her vision faded to black.

A campfire flickered in front of her. But instead of the searing heat she expected from a fire so close, all she felt was a calming glow. She was listening to a guitar to her right, and was staring at the odd purple crystal to her left, when a white box with a red light beeped at her from across the fire and pointed at her.

No, not at her.

At the fire.

The sparking, caring, campfire.

As she noticed the sparks float their way into the night sky, she watched mesmerized as they merged with the stars. And then the stars began to _dance._

She stared until she and the three other beings began to glow, and then darkness claimed her again.

She wasn't certain of what happened in the boat, but the fading visions of the campfire gave her a feeling that she had at least lived. Maybe. The angelic sounding chattering above her provided some counter-evidence though. Once she opened her eyes to check what was going on, she realized that things were very, very wrong. Wronger than the very describing an unkind Behemoth. She hadn't opened her eyes. She'd opened her _eye._ And she was seeing everything with a greenish tint. And she was covered in bandages. And there was this creepy little dude about 2 feet tall with a blue backpack chattering away on her stomach. In a language that wasn't English. That she _understood._

"RHAӒVE'SHO, NEH?" the bandaged dude said to her.

"Um," she blurted out at the sight of the little guy. But she stopped. That wasn't her voice. It sounded like she'd been smoking for thirty years. She startled, when she remembered why.

The melting, the heat, the _burning_. The flames had burnt her outside and in, and she was now realizing what happened. The, campfire? The image was fading now, but its warmth and care seemed to stay with her. Whatever it was had given her an ally, to help her? Maybe just to listen to her. But help her it had; patching her up with bandages, pulling her from the melting steel, wrapping her with a strange blue scarf, and sitting by her side until she awoke.

The little dude jumped off her chest when she sat up, looking up at her with a critical stare.

"FLSTH'KHUN?" it asked her

"No, I hope not, anyway." She replied, still reeling at the fact that she understood it.

"KHUNORI" it stated simply, looking in the distance towards something unseen.

"Things are always changing little dude" he looked at her questioningly "But that doesn't mean this is one of those times.

He nodded at her reply, then walked up to her and took her hand.

She winced, expecting intense pain, but all she felt was his warm grip.

"FLӒӦI" he commented and he helped her stand.

"Oh, I never said anything about not trying little dude, just that this might not be a time for change. This could be that time though."

He nodded at her, and then attempted to walk her out of the alley she'd been hiding in.

"Not yet. You need to tell me what you did first." She ordered him after stopping them from walking out.

He sighed deeply, as if expecting to avoid this argument, then plopped down, patting the spot next to him with his hand. So she sat down, and he began to explain.

Apparently when Ally (and he was her ally in every way that an ally truly was) was patching her up, her bandages had fused with her skin. Something about her regeneration being different than usual, leaving her constantly damaged, but able to work at full capacity. Her eye (and she really did only have one eye) glowed a faint green from in between her bandages and her old eye sockets, and gave her perfect 170⁰ vision in front of her, even if something, other than her eyelid, was obstructing her view.

Her Ally was apparently called just that, an Ally. He had explained to her that he was made from her pain, and now that she was seemingly permanently burned, he would be with her until she died. Then he explained the most shocking thing of all.

Ally, as she decided to name him, was from somewhere loosely translated to 'Wastes that would have come to be', which he described as 'much dirtier' and thanked her from taking him from that place.

He also described other Allies that could be summoned, warning her that they would most likely be forced to leave, as her healing method would repair all other wounds. In fact, there had been a second Ally that had been created alongside the little dude, but the second had sacrificed himself to give Caroline a 'boxular healing kit', which repaired all but the scarring wounds and fused her skin to the bandages she had on.

The sun had risen by the time Ally had finished his explanation, and Caroline realized that she had to find someplace new to stay.

"Well little dude, how about you and I go find somewhere to go." She said to Ally, taking his hand.

"YISH, FLӒSHYN." He replied.

For once, Caroline was content with the chilly breeze that blew down the alleyway.

After all, of the powers she could have gotten, she had gotten one of the few that could have given her a friend.

It has been a little over three years since he'd come into this world, into the city of Brockton Bay, and he still didn't completely understand the intricacies of the English language. Caroline, and she wouldn't accept any other name, even though he thought Great One was a perfectly decent name, had started teaching it to him once she had remembered that other people couldn't understand him. Him yelling at the first person that tried to mug their bandaged forms had made her remember that fact, and she had been sure to teach him proper insults first.

Now, he was up to a 7th grader's vocabulary level, and he was proud of this fact. Vocal practice was hard to find with people other than Caroline, as he was clearly disproportionate on this Earth.

He mostly practiced by telling stories of the wastes to Caroline. Of how he and his comrades had banded together under the banner of his old Great One, in search of the Nuclear Throne. He knew it likely didn't exist in this world, even with all the technological wonders that were produced by 'Tinkers' worldwide. Nothing he saw from this world came close to doing what the tales of the Nuclear Throne said it was capable of.

When he wasn't describing the stories of the Throne and the Proto Mutant to her, he tried to tell her of what he remembered Great One doing.

Summoning allies, spreading weapons and her health to her followers, and producing guns, ammo and boxular healing kits from the bodies of her enemies. All abilities the old Great One were capable of. And all things Caroline was capable of as well.

But even with her abilities, Caroline strayed from what the 'fucking gangs' and the 'Protectbullshit' wanted of her. She didn't even do anything like that rogue Parian did in the southern district. Caroline didn't desire money, or power, or drugs, or anything that was offered to her. She wanted someone by her side, and she had him. Sure, calling him Ally was like calling a dog, Dog, but it was the name she called him before she even knew what the wastes were, so he accepted it with joy. He'd never had a name before.

But since she had her companion, her trusty splinter pistol that had come from a killed rapist, her backup energy screwdriver from one of the racists that tried to recruit her, and three years and five months experience of living in the depths of Brockton Bay, she had all she needed.

This was enough for Caroline and Ally. They weren't heroes or villains, rogues or independents.

They were something else.

Rebels.

Translations:

RHAӒVE'SHO – Our lives are hard.

NEH – No

FLSTH'KHUN? – Will it always be this way?

KHUNORI – Something needs to change.

FLӒӦI – We have to try.

YISH – Yes

FLӒSHYN – Let's do this


	6. Fragmentation 5

Fragmentation 1.5

(?)

It awoke.

It saw.

A creature, glowing white and twenty times its height, lumbering away from it. Two legged beings flying or running around the creature, hitting it with lights and impacts.

It saw.

Creatures of glowing green mass, forming in the wake of the monster, turning their attention to the two-leggers and attacking, forming balls of green and firing them, sitting still then blasting green in all directions, or jumping at them in a fit of rage. Was it meant to attack the two-leggers too?

Then the ones nearest to it turned, and began to fire at it as well.

It saw.

Orbs approaching from almost every direction, the ones who fired them out of reach of its jumps, teleporting away whenever it neared.

It felt.

Betrayal? The creatures were like it, no? They were green and glowing, formed in the wake of the great monster, but they weren't like it. They attacked all who were nearby but each other.

And it wasn't part of their group.

It saw.

Orbs blotting its vision, hostiles just out of reach, trying to end him like they did the two-leggers.

It felt.

Hopelessness. Doom. An end approaching if he couldn't hurt the others.

It saw.

Darkness.

A fire, in the distance

Flame bright with warmth.

Figures sat around it, none but one glancing his way.

The one with the ~guitar~ guitar spoke.

"Hey Horror, he says you don't need much of his help."

Was Horror its name? Fitting, in a way.

"All you need to do, is open your mouth, and _scream._ "

Scream huh?

The fire flickered, and both he and the ~guitarist~ guitarist returned their attention to it.

Horror watched a spark float into the sky, merging with the stars.

The stars began to spin ~dance~ no, dance, and he faded to black once more.

Horror awoke, and screamed.

A beam of pure ~radiation~ radiation spewed out of Horror's mouth, decimating the horde of ~guardians~ guardians in front of it. Chunks of green material fell from their bodies, as well as a black and blue ~lightning pistol~ lightning pistol and some orange boxes (~ammunition~).

Then the beam hit the monster that was walking away, and everything stopped.

The two-leggers… ~humans~ humans had paused, tracking where the beam came from, and while some seemed… ~shocked~ shocked at Horror's appearance, most continued to beat on the monstrosity.

The monster had instead turned to look at Horror, and tilted its head ~not a head, empty~ at it. Then, as if giving off a sense of indifference, it flashed white once more, and turned back around.

Did Horror's beam really do so little?

No. It pierced through the guardians with ease. The monster must be horrifically strong ~too strong~. It is too strong for Horror then. The humans have all returned to fighting the monster now, but Horror sees no use in fighting. The monster is too strong for Horror, but the monster was never hostile towards Horror in the first place. It had forgiven Horror's attack, so Horror will not give chase. These humans though, were openly attacking it, causing little ~superficial~ damage to it.

Why did the humans fight this monster? Didn't they see it was hopeless? Horror had watched at least fifteen humans die to the monster, and it wasn't sure if the humans were good or… ~good. Most of the time. Careful of bandaged or blue ones~ If humans were good, why did they fight? Did that make the monster bad?

The monster began to glow again, the white shining bright enough to force all of the humans to turn away, but Horror was entranced. ~Radiation~ Horror was getting stronger. Something was changing within Horror, and as the humans were turning and running, something _**SPARKED**_. And then the monster paused again.

~Grab the lightning pistol~ Horror grabbed the lightning pistol as something inside his head sparked again, connecting with the gun.

~Try again with this~

He did.

And the monster turned.

It glared.

~Oops~

Horror didn't think the monster was going to ignore it now.

~sorry…~

Horror turned, and ran.

"That poor thing" Tick Tock said out loud.

"What, the radiation abomination?" Accord replied.

"Only twelve minutes old and fighting an Endbringer. Isn't that an inspiration?"

"Was he the dimensional shift we sensed earlier?" a thinker named Dyrr asked.

"Yes, the poor dearie triggered only a minute after birth. Such a sad sight." Tick Tock sighed "But I suppose I should refocus, no?"

"Yes Tick Tock," Accord growled out "you should."

"Oh you're such a fuddy duddy Accord, don't you know how to appreciate the birth of new life?"

"Not," Accord almost snarled "during an _Endbringer_ attack."

"Oh, that's right!"

'I will not kill these people during an Endbringer attack.' Accord repeated his mantra to himself. I will not kill these people during an Endbringer attack.'

It was back.

The Proto-damned bird was back.

It must have been following Horror.

It had to have been for months.

Just to stare at him.

And… flap around and such.

And screech.

This… INFERNAL bird had been after Horror since a day after it fled the monster.

Horror hated birds.

~Always have. ~ Always will.

But most of all, Horror hated crows. ~or was it ravens? ~

Their screeching yell, from dawn until dusk, their piercing red stare, their ability to avoid Horror's radiation beam.

~Their submachineguns hidden between their feathers. ~

Their submachine… Crows didn't have submachineguns… ~not yet anyway~ where had that idea come from?

Doesn't matter. All that matters is Horror's hatred for birds.

But mostly crows ~or ravens~.

Fuck crows ~and ravens~.

Horror had gotten it.

The damnable bird was dead.

Horror had never been happier in its life.

Peaceful, calm, and relaxing silence.

Horror welcomed it with glee.

*BOOOOM*

Proto fucking damn it!

Horror saw a plume of smoke in the distance, in the direction it had been going.

Horror had walked towards where the sun had risen and away from the monster ever since the fight. It didn't know where Horror was walking to, but away from the monster was a good a place as any.

There had been tall rocks in the direction the monster was walking, and they looked interesting with snow on the tips of them, but if the last glare the monster sent its way was any indication of Horror's death, it wanted to be as far away from that thing as possible.

So Horror went away. Towards the sun, not stopping, until Horror was where it was now: approaching the smoke a short distance away.

Horror hoped it was friendly.

25 was mad. His latest resupply probe had crashed just west of New Hampshire, and a mass of radiation was approaching it. It looked like one of the Hounds, but it was about the size of a coyote, instead of a large sedan.

"Yo 03, you seeing this?" he sent to 03 cautiously.

He wasn't sure if this runt was hostile or not. More often than not, Hounds immediately attacked anything that moved, but this one was cautiously approaching, almost as if it was… thinking.

"OOOH! It's him!" a childish screech came back over the connection.

It was 46, the radiation Administrator.

"What, what is it?"

"Not it… Him. He's a thinking Hound, or… maybe a Dog… Not sure, but this little guy is a living, breathing (maybe not breathing), being!" 46 somehow yelled over the connection.

"What do you mean, being?" 03's voice came over.

"Well," 46 replied, actually responding seriously for once "this little guy over here appeared in the Behemoth fight seven months ago where he, and I quote, '… scared the fuck out of every thinker in the region by going through a trigger event and…'"

"Wait, wait, wait, this Hound triggered? I thought only sentient beings could trigger?" 25 interjected.

"Exactly!" 46 continued "Which is why every cape group in North America wants their hands on him."

"Well, what are his powers then?" 25 exasperatedly asked.

"That's just the thing," a voice came over his speakers "Nobody knows."

"M-mother! "26 and 45 stammer out "It's an honor to speak with you again so soon" "How you doing Mother?"

"A pleasure 26, and well, 45, but I'm afraid talk must come later, a friend from Brockton Bay heard that I had found him, and wants to talk it out, so you guys can watch, but please stay quiet."

"Going on a date mom?" 03 asked smugly.

"S-shut up 03, it's not a date. He's just a very good friend" Mother answered almost too quickly "And remember, call me Dragon in case someone is listening in. We don't have encryptions out in the middle of the woods."

"Alright 'Dragon'!" 46 yelled out "Have fun with your prince!"

"It's not a date!" Mother spurted out as 25, 46, and 03 went silent

Horror wasn't sure what it was looking at. The object was a mixture of ~Robot~ Robot and a car, but it was far sleeker than anything Horror had seen in the ruins it'd passed while fleeing the monster.

~Careful…~ Horror took out hit lightning pistol and creeped forward towards the smoking device, when the door on the top exploded off and away. ~I hope it hits a crow. ~

Something flew out of the top. ~Oh proto is that a bird?!~

Horror was about to fire when it began to hover, and then Horror gave it a glance.

It had four flames spurting out of cylinders surrounding a black box, and two greyish arms jutting out of the sides.

'Why is there a speaker on a space probe Dragon?'

'Well you see… Oh! It's on!"

'Errr, hello? Can you hear me?'

Horror heard some noises, but didn't know what it meant. ~Uhhh, not Trashtalk. Can't help you here, me. ~ So Horror just cocked its head to the side like the monster had after his beam hit it.

'Well he heard you Colin, but he clearly didn't understand. Here, let me try.'

The not bird began flashing lights out in a distinct order: pause, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34… the flashes continued as Horror thought to itself.

~Ooh, I know this one, it's the Fibonacci sequence Steroids taught us! ~

Horror knew what it meant, but not what to do. ~maybe copy it? ~ Copying it would just seem like mimicry to the not bird, maybe the circle number… ~Pi~ Pi would be better.

So Horror sent out light the only way it knew how.

'Err, what is it doing?'

'Maybe it's…'

Horror tilted its head back, and screamed.

'Back up! Back up!'

'Sensors are burning out! Careful Colin, we lost engines, the cameras, and the backup battery.'

~3, pause, 1, 4, 1, 5, 9…~

'Wait, Colin look at the Geiger counter!'

'It's telling us Pi?'

'No Colin, he's responding to the Fibonacci sequence with another mathematical constant. He's intelligent.'

'Amazing…'

Horror looked back down once it got to the fifteenth decimal place and noticed the not bird was gone. Had it flown away? ~Look down~ Oh look! It was just napping. Horror didn't understand why some things slept, but it couldn't so it might never understand.

~Wake it up, maybe it knows Trashtalk. ~

Horror went up to the sleeping not bird and noticed a red light flashing on its back.

~Could it be like robot? ~

"Can you understand me?"

The light continued to flash, but more sounds came out of the box.

'Is it, speaking to us? Dragon, what language is that, I sounds familiar.'

'There are similarities to the language the Rebels use in Brockton, but they've never given out translations, so if we use what we've heard we'd be going in blind.'

'Maybe we should try a phrase?'

'Oh, here's one that looks nice'

"Fuck off you rapist."

What? ~I can't even rape anything! What a bunch of assholes! ~

Horror was disgusted. It thought the not bird was friendly, sharing mathematical constants and everything, but all it does is curse it out once it learns its language.

Horror spat a wad of radiation at the not bird and walked away.

'Dragon, what did you say to it?'

'Um, I may have just insulted him.'

'Why?'

'The, uh, only times this language is said is when one or both of the Rebels are being attacked, so…'

'We might have just used its language's curse words at it.'

'Maybe?'

'Well, it's gone now. Where's it headed?'

'I have satellites focusing in on him… Now! We should be able to keep track of it.'

'Good, if we have something or someone else meet up with it we might be able to continue talks.'

'Alright Colin, I'll see what I can do.'

'Maybe this time you won't resolve to cursing it out in its native tongue.'

'C-Colin!'


	7. Fragmentation 6

Fragmentation 1.6

(Jason Freelow)

October 29, 2008

There were monsters in his closet.

Jason was sure of this. They creeped out after mommy went to bed, and snuck around him as he hid under his blanket. He saw their eyes one night too! There were creepy spiders and squirming snakes, and they were after him.

The scariest ones were the shadow blobs though. They could be anywhere! Not even Lucy could scare those away, and she ate spiders!

Lucy was on her bed in mommy's room though, and there were bugs crawling out of his closet.

Covers!

Covers were safe, but the monsters were still there. As Jason pulled the covers over his head, he promised to ask his mommy how to destroy the monsters tomorrow.

'Tomorrow' Jason thought to himself 'I will destroy them all tomorrow.'

Lauren knew the nightmares were back when she saw Jason's face the next morning.

"What's wrong honey?" Lauren asked him.

"The monsters were out again last night"

Lauren sighed.

Jason had been seeing monsters ever since Brad had passed. She and Jason both had their own ways of mourning, she supposed, her with forcing herself into her work, and Jason with his TV shows, and she had thought getting Lucy would help her son, but not even 'The bravest Goldie Retriever ever' could stop the nightmares and monsters.

But Lucy had helped, even if it was five nights a week her Jason walked down the stairs with a frown instead of seven. Maybe if she…

"Mommy, I need to get rid of the monsters."

That… was rather grown up of him.

"What do you mean honey?" she asked, proud that he was trying to be brave.

"Lucy tries her best, but she can't get the shadows." He said, sparing a glance at the grinning puppy. "So I want to fight them."

'Fight them?' Lauren thought she might have misheard him "How do you want to do that?"

"Like daddy's old movies, with the 'samri' and ninjas"

'Hmm, learning martial arts would get him out of the house more and maybe he'll make friends.'

"So you want to learn martial arts honey?"

"Marchial arts?"

"Martial arts, like what the ninjas use, and the samurai."

"What do sam-u-rai do? Swords are cooler."

"I think Samurai use something called Kendo, a martial art based around swords, but I'm not sure. I can go looking for a place to learn while you're at school if you want." She saw his hopeful face, the first time in months, and knew she had an answer.

January 29, 2011

It's been a little over two years since Jason had pushed himself through the Kendo lessons his mother had signed him up for, and even he could see the differences. His mother had complemented his growth (He was totally grown up, he could break wood with his elbow!) and his skill with his bamboo sword, even giving him a steel katana for his eighth birthday, although he had to promise to not use it on other people. He had learned from his teacher how to take care of his blade, "For practice" his teacher told him, in case he ever had to use it for real. His teacher warned him that he may have to use it to protect his mom, with all these 'crazy capes' flying around. He had mentally changed his promise to his mother after he was told that, promising instead to only use it to protect others. He was grown up now, he had to protect his mom.

He was one of the youngest in the class, but he was the fourth most experienced. His teacher had thirty-five years of Kendo experience, and twelve teaching, while the oldest student, Thompson, had been his student for eleven. The third was a girl by the name of Josie, and she'd been a student for four years. She'd helped him a lot when he first started, and she was pretty! He told her that when he first saw her, and she had smiled and said she was a little too old (He still didn't know what she meant, 18 isn't too old). Then Thompson started laughing in the corner and said that even HE was too young for her, and Josie's face turned red and she started hitting him, and Thompson started running around the room laughing his head off.

He still didn't know what had happened, even now, when the two were hugging and, _kissing,_ all the time

But now the class was being called up to the front of the room, where his teacher was standing with a short blonde girl a little older than him.

"Hello class."

"Hello teacher."

"I've got someone new here that will be learning with us for a few days while she's in town, so please take care of her." His teacher looked towards the girl "Would you like to introduce yourself?"

"Yep!" The girl replied cheerfully "My name is Cassandra and I'm gonna kick all your behinds! Call me Cassie!"

Her face seemed to stretch with glee as she announced her name to the class. She seemed rather happy.

"Jason, care to come over here and show her the basics?"

"Sure teacher." He responded. He was about to question why it was him that would teach her, when he noticed Thompson and Josie kissing behind some of the taller kids. Ewww.

Maybe Cassie would be different? All of the other kids his age weren't serious about learning Kendo, either lazing around in the back of the room or talking with their friends, while he spent hours a day after school practicing forms and stances.

Maybe she'd actually want to spar with him! Other than Josie and Thompson, nobody wanted to spar with him because he was too good at it. If she had previous experience, maybe he'd have some actual practice!

"Hi, my names Jason! Nice to meet you!"

"You too, I'm Cassie! So you're going to be teaching me?" she asked with an eager expression on her face.

"Yep! So, what do you know about fighting with a sword?"

"Well…"

It was nearing the end of Cassie's time in the dojo, and Jason was already feeling sad. His newest best friend was leaving.

She had, in fact, known how to use a sword, at least a little, and her attacks had been a little violent for the other students, but it was great practice for him. He had someone to spar with! That wouldn't forfeit once his name was called! They became fast friends, learning from each other's experiences. Her Uncle had apparently taken her in after her parents died, and had taught her how to defend herself as well as homeschooling her. She told him she loved science, but was extremely interested in capes.

"I wanna find out how they do what they do!" She had whispered to him one day after class.

"What? You mean like fly and teleport? And shoot fire?" He whispered back, excitedly.

"Of course!" she said "I also want to find out where tinkers get all of their ideas from, and how Alexandria is invincible, and how Panacea heals people, and how Mouse Protector teleports, and…"

"Wait… Panacea's the girl in Brockton Bay right?" Jason questioned

"Yeah, that right! She spends most of her time after school in the hospital healing all kinds of people! Where did you hear about her?" She stared at him eagerly.

"Errm, my dad was on her waiting list when he died" he trailed off after that, fondly remembering his father as a caring man, even if he was in bed for all that he could remember.

"Oh…" Cassie said "I'm sorry, I didn't realize…"

"It's okay." Jason replied resolutely "Besides, you know what it's like, living with your uncle and all."

"Yeah…" Cassie looked away at this, frowning

"Uhm, so what other capes are interesting?"

She grinned, turning her thoughts around so quickly, Jason wasn't sure if she had ever looked sad at all.

"Oh, well there's also Narwhal, who went through a _second_ trigger event and can create force fields almost anywhere! And also…"

Jason happily nodded along, not really knowing what she was talking about, just happy to see her smiling instead of looking sadly out the window.

'So this is what a friend is…'

Cassie's last day.

'Sigh'

Jason didn't want her to go, and she had looked a little guilty when he asked to keep in touch.

"My uncle doesn't really have a computer, so…"

Cassie looked really sad when she said this, and when he asked if she could contact him when she stopped by 'a library or something', she had hesitated, then grinned at him and said "Sure Jason, here's my email."

He had a girl's email. A week before, he would have thought it was gross and forgotten it, but this was _Cassie_ , his bestest friend in the _WORLD._

But it was still her last day in class.

She had caught up to his skill level impressively fast, gaining more compliments from teacher than the rest of the students combined, and she had even won two of their spars.

'Out of 14' he thought proudly 'and one of the times was luck'

His mom had been proud of him teaching 'his little girlfriend' the proper stances so quickly, and he quickly objected to her being his girlfriend. Having a girl as a best friend was fine. As a girlfriend, it was gross. He still didn't see what was wrong with Josie and Thompson, but something had to be.

Teacher had gathered the class to the front of the room for her goodbye, and was giving them a boring speech about what true hard work was, and how they should be proud of Cassie and aspire to be just as hard working as her.

Cassie looked just as bored and Jason felt. Horribly.

"Well well well, so this is where you've been staying all day."

A voice came out from the entrance of the room, and everyone turned to look at the speaker.

"Uhh, hi Uncle Jack."

Teacher had quickly put the youngest behind him while Thompson had pulled a teary eyed Josie to his side.

"It seems Bonesaw's been training without us, guys. I guess we'll have to do something about that."

"Now wait a dang minute!" Cassie, no, that couldn't be Cassie! But it was. But she couldn't be Bonesaw! One of _his_ monsters! Mommy told him she would eat him if he didn't do his homework! She couldn't be Bonesaw, she was _Cassie._

"Shatterbird, cut the lights, and Cherish, cut their lights."

Everything shattered, he felt pain, and then his vision turned black.

He was walking towards a light.

Was he dead?

Mommy said when they died daddy would be waiting for them, but all he saw was this… campfire.

He'd never been camping before.

He noticed some people sitting around the fire, one glowing green, one metal, one all bandaged up, and one playing the guitar.

He didn't recognize the song, but it was nice to his ears. Calming.

The fire sparked and his attention was drawn to it.

His eyes followed the spark as it drifted skyward, and then he saw the stars. They were dancing, and he began to glow.

Then all faded to black again.

He awoke, and immediately noticed something was wrong.

He felt… different. And then he opened his eyes.

"Is this why we stopped by the chicken farm Bonesaw? I have to say, I'm very impressed."

"Yep!" It was Cassie, but not Cassie "I had a tough time merging their DNA, but I _love_ the way his wings turned out."

"Yes, fusing his arms and wings together, yet restraining the strength needed to fly, as well as giving him the beak. Very well done." Jason saw Jack Slash pat Cassie, no, Bonesaw, on the head. "But why this one? Did he tease you in class?"

"Umm yep! While the others let him! It was terrible!"

"Well then I see it was better to humiliate this one than to kill him like the rest of the town." The town…

"Yep, he really deserved it!" Bonesaw cheered out

Why would she leave him alive? And, what did she say? Fuse him with a chicken?

"Do you want to make some final edits? Or leave him be to regret his actions?" Jack asked Bonesaw

"Well he doesn't have control of his muscles yet, so I think leaving him here on the operating table will be fine! Oh, and Jack! Do you want to sign the 'get better soon' card I got him? I already got Siberian, Shatterbird, and Cherish to sign it, but Mannequin and Crawler didn't want to." She leaned in close to Jack with her next words "I didn't ask Burnscar because I think she'd want to burn it."

"Sure, let me talk to the kid first though."

"Ok!" Bonesaw replied as Jason felt her hopping off.

"Well kid," Jason knew he was grinning at him "I know we enjoyed our visit to your town a little too much, but I hoped to give you a goal before we left."

Jack leaned over Jason's body into his vision and looked into his eyes.

"I know you triggered back there kid, we all felt it, and whether you wanted us to know or not, there's something I've _got_ to tell you." He lost his grin as he spoke his next words.

"If you want revenge for killing your town and mom," They killed mom? I'm… I'm going to…

"Ohohoh, there's the rage. Well, as I was saying, you're going to want to do some real training before you catch up, as we'll be waiting for you. I don't know what you got in the power lottery kid, but you're gonna have to make the best of it if you want to get back at us."

He'd have to. He'd do what no one had done before. He train and train and train…

"Well kid, here's your card, and I really do hope you get better, as I can't wait to see what you become."

Jack placed a card on his chest, and turned to walk away, stopping before leaving the room.

"And be sure to close the door on your way out, won't you kid?"

And then he was gone.

Home, he had to get home.

His sword was home, and maybe they lied about mom? She had to be alive, he needed her help!

But when Jason rounded the corner and saw his house, he knew she was gone. Just like daddy.

Where his house had once stood, a crater now existed. And in the center…

His mother.

With his sword in her chest.

He stumbled down the crater's wall as he approached his mother's corpse, and began to cry.

Taking his sword out had been the hardest thing he'd ever done, and her body physically deflating caused him to vomit. The sheath was placed next to her body, and when he picked it up, something fell out of it.

A note

'My name isn't Cassie, its Riley.'

'I'm sorry.'

He wanted more time with her, back when she was Cassie, back when they were friends.

He needed time to think about this, to mourn, to train, to cry.

He needed time.

And then he felt the world around him slow, but not his thoughts.

.

.

.

Was this his power? Jack Slash had said he'd triggered, and Cassie had said something about people getting powers from trigger events, so he could get time to think?

Then he noticed he could walk around just fine, but couldn't move his hands as quickly. He saw a bird slowly flapping in the sky, and grew even more confused. It was slow, and then it wasn't. It had passed his neighbor's… his dead neighbor's old house down the street, and then it sped up again. He slowed time in a large area?

He had time to think now.

Time to train.

Time to cry.

Time to think.

Time to plan.


	8. Fragmentation 7

Fragmentation 1.7

(Ashley Cross)

November 22, 2010

-15d, 5h, 26m, 13s.

15 days, 5 hours, 26 minutes, and 14 seconds since Ashley needed to have a night's sleep longer than 4 hours.

Time until she next needed to use the toilet: ~ 3 hours, 20 minutes.

Time until she began to use up her fat stores: 1 day, 2 hours, 16 minutes, and 12 seconds.

Time until she became dehydrated: 21 hours, 42 minutes, and 24 seconds.

Closest IDPD agent: Undetermined. (14 days, 1 hour, and 54 seconds after her visor was built, and she still didn't know what an IDPD agent was.)

Number of jumps until empty battery (Warning, dimension lockdown activated): 3.

2h, 5m, 29s since she'd been awoken in the alley she'd been hiding in by someone _dressed_ as a PRT trooper.

14d, 1h, 1m, 12s since she couldn't tell the difference without a name and face.

Two sides were after her. One for going AWOL, the other for discovering they existed.

One would put her in prison, the other would kill her when she got there.

One was on the cover of every newspaper in the United States, the other only had a _name_ on PHO.

Just a name.

Coil.

And the most important timer of all:

3m, 31s away from target location lockdown.

A few minutes from going right to the head of the snake.

…

…

…

She wasn't sure she was ready.

2 weeks, 2 days, 5 hours ago exactly, she had been an analyst working directly under Director Piggot. She had been asked to look for possible reasons that the Brockton Bay PRT had the worst mission success ratings in the United States. One and a half hours were spent scanning records of missions, vacation requests, outside training, and transfers, when she noticed something.

One of their Commanders and CEO of Fortress Construction, Thomas Calvert, had asked to subcontract some soldiers sometime in late 2007 that were from some rather _questionable_ sources. His request was denied, by order of Piggot herself but years later, analysts and technicians were hired under the same names as the soldiers that were suggested by Calvert.

It must have been an error.

And then it was.

The names from Calvert's request in 2007 were different now. But she _had_ seen those names.

It must have been an error.

But it wasn't.

She hadn't saved the names. She didn't have any proof.

So she kept searching.

Over the next two days and three hours, Ashley had discovered more evidence of Calvert's intrusions. Nothing outright hostile, but she didn't see how replacing construction workers with his own men could mean anything good. She had learned as well. Every speck of proof against Calvert that she discovered, she printed out for Piggot, partially because she didn't want to forget the details. Mostly because the computer system forgot the details after she found them.

She printed those changes out as well.

And she kept searching.

Ashley was finishing up her report for Piggot when pop-ups began appearing on her screen.

*Access to has been interrupted, input security key to re-attempt access*

Typing in her security key, Ashley was beginning to panic. They'd stopped her from accessing files two minutes after she'd finished her report. She was in the middle of typing in her final notes when the cutoff occurred, but she had all she needed to imprison Calvert for decades on her desk, including illegal transfers, money laundering, bribery, and more.

Including what happened to the construction workers she'd noticed at the beginning.

They hadn't only been replaced, they'd been replaced, used by Fortress Construction, and then disappeared.

There was a structure beneath an abandoned building, 14 stories deep, filled with traps and vaults and tunnels.

And everyone who'd worked on it?

Dead, or vanished without a trace. Car accident, accident at home, fallen down stairs, suicide, heart attack, moved to Mexico, took a trip to Vegas. All of the crew who worked on this superstructure were gone. The only ones who knew of it now was Calvert and his personal guards. And when she found references and matches to one of his hired mercs in the PRT escapee list, she found the connection she was looking for.

Thomas Calvert was Coil.

Or, a mole of his at least.

She hadn't typed that into her console, in fear that Coil's moles were in her computer already.

Seeing her security key failing to work a third time confirmed her hypothesis.

She wasn't meant to survive the next few minutes.

Calvert wasn't an idiot after all.

Well, he was back in 2007, but he wasn't now.

She was the top analyst in the PRT, but she'd been Calvert's top analyst for the past two days solving his mistakes.

She'd been working for Calvert without her knowledge, and once she'd been gotten rid of, without anyone's. She needed to get her report to Piggot _now,_ but she couldn't alert whoever was in her computer now that she knew she was being monitored. Piggot's desk was two floors up and at the end of the hall the elevator opened up to. And she needed to plan a way up to her room, without getting detained or murdered.

She may have been a little rusty in tactics… Well, she was a lot worse than rusty in tactics; three years without any firearm and physical training besides lifting two hours a day would hurt her chances, but she needed to get these reports to Piggot. Identities of thirty-four moles including Calvert, who was at the least a lieutenant of Coil, were vital to the Brockton Bay PRT's success. The report was also necessary for the failure of Coil's apparent plan to humiliate the PRT and have Piggot fired, replacing her with, if she read her notes right, a certain Thomas Calvert.

She started planning.

Ugh, she had some running to do.

She should have listened to her weight lifting buddy. Even if he was one of the traitors.

Leg day was important after all.

45 minutes have passed, and she was ready to bolt.

She was jittery, shaking slightly, and she was at the end of her patience.

Her plan was foolproof. She knew which moles were on her floor and Piggot's, she knew which path left the largest openings to dash through, she knew which of her colleagues she could trust and which she should avoid unless she wanted to be apprehended. But most of all, she knew what to hand to Piggot once she arrived, and what to hide in her office in case she didn't. All agents had compartments in their office for sensitive and private information, which only they and their superior officer knew about, paper informed of course, they weren't stupid. Ashley knew that even if she was stopped on the way up, Piggot would find the report's copy.

She was at the door now. She just had to open it, dash out, run, run, dodge, jump, throw if to left, push if to right, etc. She was ready.

1…

2…

3…

*Slam!*

…

The door was locked.

Shit! Shitshitshitshitshit why didn't she think of that! Of course they'd lock the door! That's like missing the eggs in a cake, or a screw in an IKEA project, or a landing in a precognitive vision (She still didn't understand that simile, but it had caught on in PHO so she might as well use it).

But the door was locked!

Now she couldn't even…

"Excuse me, Ms. Cross?"

She didn't have a speaker in her room.

"It has come to my attention that you've been such a valued employee to me that I would like to offer you a job."

This was Calvert.

The scent of blackmail was strong in this one.

"In return for you putting the papers in your hand in the shredder to the left of your desk and joining my forces, I _won't_ dispose of you in the same way as the men and women on page 25 of your report."

Page 25 was the _violent_ disappearance page.

Shit.

"Um, Piggot knows I'm working on this project, so wouldn't my disappearance seem a little suspicious?"

That's right Ashley, keep him talking. Villains love to monologue right?

"No. You have 30 minutes to come to a decision, both because I am a generous man, and because you chose to soundproof your room. That was well done by the way, some of the rooms in my base aren't nearly as soundproofed as yours."

Well fuck, Calvert _was_ Coil.

The speaker clicked off after Calvert finished talking, and her thoughts began to race.

'Need to think, need to plan, need to get out' Ashley repeatedly screamed in her mind.

She had spent days solving this problem for Piggot, and it was all for waste, well, not for waste actually. But her being dead to not rub it in his face was not acceptable. It wasn't on her to do list for today or anytime soon, and she knew, she checked.

'1. Fuck Calvert over.

2\. Find a boyfriend.

3\. Lift at 4:30pm Jones is a traitor, fucking bastard!

4\. Call mom, birthday in tomorrow!

5\. Turn in finished report redundant, look at 1, Ashley.

6\. Don't die.

7\. Eat/ drink/sleep etc. Ties in with 6.

8\. Project Relax.'

See? It wasn't on her list, so she couldn't die. And Calvert would get fucked over, even if it _was_ the last thing she did (Which was looking kind of likely).

She didn't want to have spent her last days on this fucking messed up world at a computer doing her job! She wanted to die in her sleep! Or on another planet! Or in space! Or after eating enough ice cream to die!

Hmm, that last one might be a good plan if she got out of this.

Minus the dying part of course.

Five minutes had passed, and Ashley had just finished a strain of curse words that would have caused Skidmark to nod in agreement. She had no plan still, as nothing she could think up could get her through the blocked door.

She had no way out, and she was terrified.

All the plans she had made, from Escalade to Jubalee to Sleepicide were useless. Pretending to die was out. She couldn't drill through the wall. She couldn't get any help.

So Ashley Cross, for the first time since she was 8, began to cry.

'I'm dead' She thought 'I'm well, and truly, dead'

Time ticked on, and on and on, and as the clock ticked on her wall, Ashley cried, and whimpered, and thrashed, and screamed, and…

She blacked out.

A campfire.

It seemed well made, structurally sound, lots of logs.

She'd been camping before with her father when she was younger, but this fire was different.

It wasn't just the amount of people sitting around it (Her mother had hated the woods with a passion. "If man were meant to live in the woods, would they have invented the air-conditioning unit?" she used to say.), or the guitar music playing from the figure to her left. It was the pure calm that seemed to emanate from the flame.

'I'll keep you safe' it seemed to whisper 'I won't let corruption ruin you as well'.

Then it brightened and glowed, sparks flashing into the sky.

Her vision followed its ascent, and she saw the stars. She'd never seen so many before, even hundreds of miles from the city.

And she didn't think any stars she'd seen could _dance!_

And swirl the stars did, until her body began to glow, and her vision began to fade.

She knew to fire was in her now, and she knew other things as well. Portals were at the forefront of her mind, leading to dimensions of destruction and doom, as well as relaxation and peace. But she knew she wasn't meant to travel. Her visions had a purpose.

Escape.

Five minutes until her time was up, and she saw her mind show her a beautiful object. A visor, masterfully crafted with a shining black metal, showing her information. And a toolkit, fittable to her back and activated with the visor that allowed her a way out. A way to escape. She looked around the room quickly, noting all pieces of technology that could be adapted into the visor and toolkit, and nodded. It would look nowhere near as cool, but it would work. Well, a desktop, personal laptop, pencil sharpener and paper shredder couldn't give access to any other dimensions, but it would allow her to get around in this one.

She got to work.

45 seconds, and she was done.

Visor and kit on and destination chosen, Ashley held up the activation switch and tried to think of a decent one liner to yell out to Calvert.

"Fuck you Coilvert you fucking douchemagoosh!"

She hit the switch, and with a swirl of blue energy, she regretted one thing.

That one liner was terrible.

It was three days later in a library in southern Miami when she visited the Brockton Bay news site for the first time since she left.

Well.

This was the first time she'd been a fugitive before.

Apparently, Calvert had finagled his influence into the PRT to convince everyone that she'd gone rogue. The published info had described how she'd stolen some valuable information, was working for the villain Coil (which wasn't exactly wrong) and was to be captured on sight.

Piggot obviously hadn't found her report, or was waiting for her return to arrest Calvert.

That just wouldn't do, now would it?

She'd discovered her blueprints in her head were mostly focused around escape and evasion, with some weaponry sprinkled in, but there was one design that had her combing over every recycling bin and thrift store in the East Coast.

A locator.

It was a beautiful device. Able to find the quantum location in the current universe of any person whose name was inputted into it.

It would help her find Calvert, regain her reputation as a decent analyst, and hopefully get her her job… back…

Oh, yeah…

She triggered.

Did the Protectorate accept transfers?

30 seconds to teleport!

Calvert was going to pay. He made her lose her job, her reputation, her bank accounts, and her spotting buddy!

She had all of the equipment she needed too.

Stun gun. Check.

Dodgeifier (Patent not pending). Check.

Visor and JumpPack. Check.

Calvert's coordinates. Check.

Timer hitting zero? Check.

Calvert in a meeting with Piggot and the Brockton Bay Protectorate?

Shit.

"Uhhhhhhh, hey guys, what's up?"

Calvert immediately stood and pulled his gun up to Ashley's head. "Get on the…"

He started shaking after that moment, as the rest of the room took aim or prepared to apprehend her.

I was really glad he hadn't fired, mostly because I didn't want to be shot. Ow. But also because I hadn't tested my Dodgeifier yet, and I wasn't sure of its full capabilities.

"Rogue, put your hands in the air, and drop the… weapon?" Armsmaster grunted out.

"It's just a stun gun, sheesh." At her words, the rest of the Protectorate tensed, and Calvert turned white and grimaced. "And my name's Ashley."

"Regardless," Armsmaster ordered "Drop it and the other object now!"

"Well if you'd just ask politely," Assault giggled "then maybe I will, but seeing as Director Piggot is here I need to turn in my report on Thomas Calvert's identity as…"

Calvert started bleeding from his nose, falling to the ground and seizing.

"…Coil. Um… That wasn't… supposed to happen…"

The rest of the room looked shocked.

"Can you repeat what you just said?" Piggot asked with a critical look on her face.

"Right, Thomas Calvert is Coil," Piggot looked to Armsmaster at this and he nodded "and I was teleporting to his location to stun him and turn him in." He nodded again.

"What did you do to him?" Battery blurted out "Is he..?"

"Dead? No clue. That wasn't me." Ashley commented, looking at Piggot as her face grew grim. "So I guess you didn't find my report?"

"No," Piggot replied as the rest of the Protectorate moved to detain Calvert "Your hiding space was... indisposed of after you took it apart."

"I did?"

"You put it inside the shredder right?"

"Yeah? And I… Oh."

"Yes, you took it apart to go… I guess the word isn't rogue after all."

"Nope, never went AWOL. I was waiting for you to find my report, which I guess is my fault you didn't, and when nothing happened I decided to confront Coilvert over there."

"But you're a criminal!" Velocity cried out

"No I'm not, I committed no crimes"

"But you…" Miss Militia commented "You're a criminal, and you…"

"Uhm, I just said I'm not a criminal."

"Ma'am," Armsmaster interrupted "I have reason to believe Rogue has a secondary stranger power that can…"

"Of course!" Velocity yelled out "She's trying to make us believe she's innocent!"

"Call in Master/Stranger Protocols Director! She's making a run for it!" All of the Protectorate except for Armsmaster began to draw their weapons and target her.

"I'm not though! " She yelled in reply "I'm standing right here. Director, you have my report, I haven't done anything illegal."

"There is a stranger effect emanating from you," Armsmaster replied "It's causing…"

*Beep*

The director had her hand beneath her desk, and Armsmaster looked like he was sighing heavily.

"Director," Armsmaster let out exasperatedly "She _is_ innocent."

"I don't know, she seems rather suspicious." Piggot replied

"Really! I mean really! "Ashley yelled out "I have proof and you just… You know what? I've been through M/S protocols before. FUCK. THAT. Call me when you're done." Then she chose the coordinates to her home, and jumped.

A few seconds passed before Armsmaster spoke up again.

"Director?"

"Yes?"

"You put us all through M/S because her power appears to make her seem guilty." Armsmaster sighed out

"Oh."

"Goddamn it."

"Shit."

The room filled with foam, and all was quiet.


	9. Fragmentation 8

Fragmentation 1.8

(Jeremy Johnson)

January 21, 2011

For once in his long time on the street, Jeremy knew where he had woken up.

Sadly for him, it wasn't because he was in a comfortable bed with a lovely not too drugged up lady, but because he'd woken up in the alley on Fountain Street.

He'd been here at least two times before, and this morning was just as groggy as the last two.

He must have taken one of the _new_ drugs at the meeting last night.

God knows he's become too tolerant to the others.

He started with alcohol. Lots of kids did. Either a beer from the fridge if you're poor, or a bottle of wine from the cellar if you're rich. Jeremy was one of the beer kids in the Merchants. He drank, and drank, and drank his way until he left high school at 16 for a job at a gas station, where he started his second drug: cigarettes. He didn't think his parents believed him when he told them he started smoking because his boss gave him a pack, telling him "It's cheaper than booze". That he was then offered something from some Merchant goons, and he'd been with them ever since. 'Them' being the Merchants and all of the drugs he was addicted to. But his parents hadn't let him come home after that, and especially not when he came back with a red wristband. But fuck'em. Heh.

"Alright, alright, alright, what do feel like today? Hmm, feeling a mix of PsychoX and cocaine, with a touch of tobacco." Checking his pockets, he found some of each, as well as his backpack of booze, his packet of Marijuana, and a vial of Raven.

"Raven! I hate this thing! Why do I have this?" Jeremy screeched out.

Raven. The newest drug on the street that he was _sure_ got him in this alley. It was the type of drug that made you happy, excited, horny, and insane at the same time. It was a party drug, inserted into tinker smoke machines to dose an entire party or room, causing it to turn into a _real_ party, an orgy, or a bloodbath, depending on the dosage. The lack of pain in his pants, or anywhere, proved it was the first stage which sent him to the alley.

The black (though it was normally grey) vial of powder on him was enough to overdose the room into the fourth stage.

Insanity.

2mL put into the system added endorphins into the brain, 5mL put hormones, 10mL put pure rage.

Anything above 14mL?

Crazy juice.

You saw… things…

The leading symptom, which gave the drug its name, caused you to act like a raven, flapping your arms around and cawing, with the most severe cases eating off of the sleeping or dead forms of the other stages.

Yeah.

He was rather happy not to be in pain.

"Welp, time to go sell some booze I guess"

And Jeremy stepped out into the Merchant Wilds of Brockton Bay, where your best chance at survival was leaving.

Ever since the ships started to slowly return to Brockton Bay, the Merchants had been weakening.

Jeremy knew it. His 'friends' knew it. Skidmark said it himself the meeting after the boats melted:

"If us fucktards are gonna shit all over this shitstain of a shithole, we've gotta learn to shit properly" Skidmark said, walking back and forth across the stage "We've gotta take it by the reigns, and rub our fucking asses all over it, because we're like mutts out here, and scrapin our ass juices across every surface in this shithole is how us fuckheads are gonna show dominance! Now who's with me!?"

There wasn't a dealer in the house who hadn't cheered him on.

Sure, the Docks weren't as open as before with all of the guards for the dockworkers, but south of the Boardwalk, there was a beautiful plot of land that the Merchants called home.

The Merchant Wilds.

Land of the sick, home of the crazed, as he always said.

And scrape their asses they did, spreading drugs through force or temptation, dragging people into alleys by their legs or their brains, and slowly, very slowly, diluting their influence over the majority of the population in territory.

Then they had it. A piece of land the poorest of the city could call home, the richest call a hellhole, and the heroes?

The heroes didn't even act like it was there.

Oh, they did their jobs everywhere else in Brockton Bay, but the best they told the mayor they could do was contain it. As even they knew containing the 16 block territory was easier than purging it of the 4000 or so druggies, 14 dealers, and 4 capes.

The other gangs ignored them, usually. The ABB had left them alone since they left the docks to them and had stopped selling product outside of the Wilds, while the E88 used them as an example as 'what niggers do to society', even though three of the Merchant's capes are white.

Well, no one is really sure about Mush, but Skidmark said he was white, a few of the Merchants believe it.

The only 'gang' they ever had trouble with were the Rebels, but that was because one fucking idiot decided to try and hook one of the little guys on drugs while Caroline had her back turned.

She and her Allies ended up cutting the hands off of the poor fool.

With their guns.

Yeah… Caroline's name didn't give her group justice.

The four capes the Merchants proudly call their own, Skidmark, Squealer, Mush, and Ratman, tie together the odd concoction that is the Merchants.

Skidmark, the so-called leader of the gang, leads with a dirty head and a filthy mouth. His power, to create bands of light to propel or slow people and objects, is what gave him his role in the gang: a leader, and manager of the battlefield. He could easily move enemy foot soldiers into obstacles, allies behind barricades, and capes into each other's attacks.

'Could', meaning what he would do if he wasn't hooked up on drugs every other battle.

Squealer was the Tinker of the group. Specializing in vehicles, she's created BusTanks that carted men, women, and drugs around the Wilds, HeliTurrets that were manned by the most sober of the Merchants to guard the borders, and AutoSideCarBikes to move those who were unconscious or immobile out of the road into alleys or empty buildings.

Before Skidmark had given his speech, when the Merchants were spread across the city, Squealer's machines were _just_ above the complexity of a microwave with a blender duct-taped to the top. She wasn't one to work hard on her projects, only completing her goals when her Tinker Urges got stronger than the drugs, but she seemed to change once they restricted themselves to 16 blocks.

After the self-containment, word spread around the dealers that she'd gone sober.

Sober!

Well, sober, as in only drinking energy drinks, which is close enough.

When the results came out three days after she delved into her garage, Mush and Ratman followed her example. Because the vehicles didn't only work…

They outperformed anything they'd ever seen before.

The design she rode out on with an off kilter smile was what she named The Mother. It was a massive craft, about the size of three school buses side by side, which spat out BusTanks, HeliTurrets, and AutoSideCarBikes in return for junk cars, metal, computers, and other metallic objects. Those other designs were developed by Squealer before she'd joined the Merchants, and had finally been implemented into her plans to help her 'family'.

Mush was a man that few members knew about. Only Skidmark knew his real name, and what he really looked like. Mush was only seen with Skidmark, covered is dirt and trash, following the leader like an overenthusiastic puppy dog.

His power, to attract loose debris and trash into a large, extended body that amplifies his strength, was generally seen as useless to people without knowledge of what he could do with it. Outside the gang, villains and heroes knew that Mush wasn't one to hold back punches. The fact that he knew others underestimated his power caused him to learn how to use it _creatively_.

People never expected to be hugged by a man made of used syringes and toxic waste.

After it was found out that one of the E88 capes, Krieg, had received AIDS after a fight with Mush, enemies learned to keep their distance from him.

Alternatively, people in the gang knew him as the Garbage Man, a name given to him due to his role in making sure the streets stayed trash-free and clean as long as he was in a good mood.

Which isn't very easy to figure out, as he never talks, and hardly anyone has seen his face.

Ratman was the newest member, triggering after getting trapped in the sewers under the Wilds for eight days, or so Skidmark says, whose power allowed him to control and summon rats. He spends his days caring for the non-summoned rats in the RatCage, training them from birth in case of emergency, as usually he uses the temporary summoned rats in combat. The summoned rats were easy to tell apart from the real ones, as they were tinted green and looked sickly. He genuinely cared for the real rats, and treated them as domesticated pets instead of the wild animals most other people thought they were.

Ratman was the first cape in the Merchants after Squealer to go sober, mostly because he realized it was easier to care for his rats while conscious.

Mush followed him after that, but only for battles and tense situations, and he knew he could think more clearly without being intoxicated.

Skidmark was still using as many drugs as he could, but he had decided to try and stay sober for fights.

It didn't work, but the chances of him being effective in battles was about 75/25.

Jeremy didn't know why the other capes listened to Skidmark, as he always thought Mush was the strongest of the group, but he knew that without Skiddy, the Merchants wouldn't be the same.

Jeremy was stumbling on towards his hovel when a green light burst into the cloudy sky in the street next to him.

'Well shit' Jeremy thought 'I didn't think I was so near to the garage.'

The Spotlight was a krypton-green neon spotlight meant to go off in case of emergency or meetings to summon the 14 dealers and the capes to the garage.

The four flashes sent out meant meeting ASAP, the last one there being restricted to the worst of the drugs for a week.

'I am so fucking glad I passed out in the alley on Fountain Street.' Jeremy mused as he headed across the street to the garage.

When he walked into the meeting room, he noticed he wasn't the first to arrive. Lucas, whose job it was to investigate new drugs, was already there talking to Skidmark rather animatedly.

"Look Skiddy, I had it last night, and it's gone! Gone! I had it in my pocket, ready to show off to you and…"

"Shut your fucking face hole you bastard. It was the fucking preview bottle you fucking fuckface!"

'I don't want to be a part of this.'

So Jeremy went to the corner of the room, sat down, and went to sleep.

He was shaken awake by Peter, who dealt in methamphetamines, and noticed that all but Xander had arrived.

'Heh, guess he gets to taste those $5 cigs tonight!'

"Thanks Peter, nice to see you. Your sister still enjoying your bed?"

"Damn it Jeremy, Clyde is the one from Alabama, not me. I'm from Quebec."

"Whoops, sorry. Canadians are the queer ones. Your brother still enjoying your bed?"

"Fuck you" Peter laughed as he pulled Jeremy to his feet.

As we walked to join the others, Xander finally joined the group, rushing through the door yelling "SHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITGODDAMNITI'MLATE"

"Hey Xander, what took you so long? You're sex doll need cleaning?"

"Please tell me I'm not last! Please! I can't stand the last place shit! I'd rather go sober for a week!"

"Well sorry to disappoint shitstain," Skidmark interrupted "But it looks like you're going sober."

Xander fell down and began to cry on the floor.

"Stand up asshole, you'll have a chance to get off the late list."

Everyone in the room froze. Getting off the late list only meant one thing.

Rewards.

"Everyone listen the fuck up!" Skidmark yelled as the rest of the capes looked bored "Some shitstain last night stole some fucking pricey product!"

Shit, this was bad. Whenever product like that disappeared, the person who lost it or took it generally ended up with an extra hole in their head. Either one depending on the drug.

"Lucas here says he had the bottle last night in his pocket, and if he lost it like a fucking idiot, he'll be missing something rather important tomorrow!"

Every man in the room cringed, while Squealer and Sarah, the acid dealer, frowned.

"So, all of you faggots are going to ask your followers if they've seen the bottle, and if any freeze up or try to run, gun'em the fuck down!"

"What was it?" Jeremy ended up asking

"It was the newest batch of Raven," Jeremy grimaced while the rest of the room smirked at him "And we all know you're a fucking pansy around that, but this vial was supposed to spend more time in stage one and two instead of straight to the shitty bird stage."

Everyone looked thoughtful at that. Lowering the chance at cannibalism might make it more attractive to users, so profits would definitely be easier with this than normal Raven.

"And what's it look like Skid?" Clyde spoke up

"It's a smallish bottle, black instead of grey, about the size of your dick, so maybe 3 inches tall."

Everyone laughed, but not Jeremy.

Jeremy froze.

'Why did I have it? Was someone out to kill me? Did someone plant it on me, or did I take it last night while drugged up?'

All Jeremy knew, was that he had the bottle.

He had better start running.

"Looks like Jeremy's seen it boys and girls." Skidmark growled at him "First to get it gets to use a dose."

'Shit'

"Except Xander, he'll just get off the late list."

"Shit!"

Jeremy ran.

And the other dealers giggled and followed.

'It's been six hours' Jeremy thought while dodging into an alleyway 'and I have to take a shit.'

The sun was setting at the moment, and he could hardly see shit.

His phone had ran out of power hours ago, and the only source of light he had left was his lighter. But both would easily give his position to the hunters once the sun truly fell away.

Someone was out to kill him, or at least remove him from the picture. He knew this, because Mush had laughed as he ran.

And Mush only laughs if someone's about to get fucked.

In both ways.

"Was that him?" Jeremy heard at the entrance of the alley.

"No you idiot, Jerryme is the one with grey shoes."

"Those were grey shoes you retard!"

"Oy, you fucking dumbasses!"

"Yeah boss?"

"That's fucking offensive to retarded people."

Shit, they'd found him. But he couldn't see them! The light from the day was gone, and with that, the ability to see where he was going. They were clearly planning to kill him. Nobody stole from Skidmark's stash and lived to tell the tale. Well, nobody but the other capes in the gang, but they were allowed to.

He didn't want to die! He had so much to…

Ughhhh, never mind.

But he still didn't want to die!

That was for idiots and weaklings!

And he wasn't much of an idiot!

Weakling, sure, but not an idiot.

"Hey, it _is_ Jerryme. Hey asshole! Hand over the drugs, and I'll only take off you dick!"

'Nope. Nopenopenopenopenope. He was done. Dead, doomed, done.'

He couldn't even see them at the end of the alley, hell, he couldn't see anything at all with the streetlights not reaching him.

As the darkness closed around him, he realized it _wasn't_ due to a lack of light, but his shutting eyelids.

A campfire.

Not a shitty ass one like the fires the gang makes in trashcans, but a genuine _campfire._

He noticed some figures sitting around the fire relaxing, one of them playing the guitar, and was about to ask if they had any marshmallows, when the fire gathered his attention.

It was sparking oddly, as if someone had tossed some cigarettes in before smoking them, and then he noticed the other oddity. He was looking to the left as he was viewing it.

Now that he thought about it, he could see it no matter which way he looked. Left, right, up, down, backwards, and diagonally. He could see everything around him perfectly, including him and the figures beginning to glow, and a spark that was floating into the sky.

The sky that held stars that could dance.

Like an… oddly fucked-up tango.

He remembered doing the tango with his mother.

And then his vision faded once again.

"Boss! Boss! Are you okay?"

"Yeah you shitstains, I'm… It worked! HAHAHAHA it worked again! Hey Squealer, we got a fucking third one! HAHAHA!"

"He triggered? Nice job honey, let's reel him in!"

"He's not a fish Squealer, he a wonderful, baby parahuman! Fit with, EUGH, eyes all over his head."

Jeremy opened his eyes to see Skidmark standing over him.

"Oh god. I'm going to die aren't I?"

"Naw, you passed, so you get to stay."

"I, passed?" Jeremy mumbled out.

"Yeah, you got powers, congrats by the way, so you get to stay." Skidmark commented, smiling.

"P-powers?"

"You got fucked up eyes all over your head, and if that ain't a power, Squealer's a virgin."

"Hey!"

"Eyes?" Jeremy opened the rest of his eyes and blinked.

"Yeah, that's fucking creepy dude. But welcome to the club!"

As he looked in every direction at once, he discovered something else, a pulling feeling in his chest, and light all around him.

"Why is it so bright?"

"Bright? It's night time. You hit your head or something"

"Maybe he has night vision? He has the eyes for it." Squealer interjected

"Ehh, maybe. What else can you do kid? You feel anything at all. Anything cool or something?" Skidmark asked as he pulled Jeremy to his feet.

"Yeah, there's something right…" He _felt_ the pulling sensation in his chest, and everything _lurched._

Well, every _one_ did.

Towards him.

"What the fuck?" Squealer yelled.

"Shit!" Skidmark blurted out.

"Hghrghughh" Clyde vomited.

He had… pulled the others towards him?

And shit! Clyde had vomited on him! That incestuous bastard!

"Clyde you fucking asshole, you fucking threw up all over us!"

"Ughghghguuuuuh… That fucking sucked…" Clyde moaned on the ground "He fucking yanked me around, the asshole."

"So, what?" Squealer asked while standing up "He can pull people towards him? Hmm, we could work with that… maybe."

"Ehhh, there's usually another aspect to powers honey," Skidmark commented "But we'll have to figure that out later. Tonight! We party."

"So, I'm not, gonna die?" Jeremy asked

"No you retard, I planted the empty vial on you to try and get you to trigger. It worked with Mush and Ratman, so why not you?"

Jeremy was speechless.

 _This_ was how Mush and Ratman had gotten powers? Running for their lives from people they thought were their friends?

"But why me? I hadn't done shit to you! Why couldn't Xander get blamed or something?"

"To be honest," Skidmark told him with a hand on his shoulder "We needed to replace a dealer, and you were the weakest link, what with you not being able to take care of yourself and all. But also…"

Skidmark socked him in the head

"You drank my booze you fucker."

As Jeremy rolled on the ground cradling his head, Skidmark and the other Merchants laughed and walked out of the alley.

"Now come one Jeremy!"

"We have a party to attend."


	10. Fragmentation 9

Fragmentation 1.9

(Yung Venuz)

Yung Venuz was NOT having a good day.

He'd had days like this before, like when the Mole people first invaded his mansion on Venus, later becoming his followers under his command, or when he lost the key to his golden car and later discovered he'd fused it with his screwdriver by accident, but this one took the metaphorical cake.

It started with his urge for fun, as most of his problems usually did, because being immortal generally left gods bored. He had decided to go exploring the multiverse as gods such as himself did.

Well, he hadn't actually met many gods other than his cousin Yung Cuz, but he imagined they vacationed in the multiverse.

Anyway, since he was the God of Guns, he had desired a world with violence, somewhere he could shoot things that died. Preferably things that were evil, but that was usually irrelevant.

He noticed a certain chunk that was intriguing to him, twisting into itself similarly to one of Yung Cuz's pretzels, but in the eldritch horror kind of way.

It was a multiversal chunk that was, put simply, broken. Violently broken.

Deliciously violent, full of combat, crazies, and adventure.

He was stunned.

How had he not seen this before? The doom and gloom of this chunk was utterly beautiful, faintly glowing with a sheen of radiation, inhabited by cross-jumping policemen, and full of things begging to be shot.

"Cuz!" Venuz yelled over to his cousin "I'm going on vacation! I'm linking the mansion up to a new multiverse sector, and I may be indisposed, so take care of the house."

"Can't the Mole Men take care of that?" Yung Cuz questioned "I mean, it is their job after all."

"Just do your chores Cuz, you still need to get a house of your own someday and stop mooching off of my glorious self."

Cuz sputtered indignantly.

"Wh-what n-no no, I'm not… mooching. I'm… taking a break. Yeah. It's only a break."

"Right, and _you're_ the one paying for the 20 tons of Trichips you eat every week. Whatever Cuz, just don't die while I'm gone."

"I can't die, I'm too busy to die."

"And being the god of laziness has nothing to do with that." Y.V. laughed out as he warped away.

"Hey!"

He found a world with ten semi-sane beings sitting near each other and decided to say hi. Sure, Y.V. wasn't knowledgeable in basic tactics, but he was immortal, so what did he care for that?

'Pop'

The ten other beings turned towards the new arrival with a peculiar look. Almost as if they'd never seen a floating triangle before.

Sitting around a fire were ten mutated mortals, a green fish man with a guitar, a purple crystal man, a blue multi-eyed mushroom thing, a white and green Venus Fly Trap plant, an overly muscular human, a robotic trashcan with a red eye, a chicken man with a sword and a television of all things (self-powered, weird), a figure wrapped in bandages and a blue scarf, a ball of green radiation, and a woman in an odd techno wizard getup. There was also a bubbling pile of flesh near the fish, but he wasn't sure what exactly that was.

"You here for the Throne too?" the fish with the guitar asked.

Y.V. could hear the capital 'T' "Uhhh, which throne? I've got a great golden one at home."

Some of the others were looking at him like he was insane, like the one in bandages and the crystal, but some, like the muscular human had ignored him, as if expecting oddities. Maybe they just didn't care at this point.

"The Nuclear Throne? The cure to all of this dimensional bullshit? Never heard of it before?" The crystalline being asked incredulously.

"Nope, I'm from out of town." Now everyone turned in surprise "What? Never had extra-dimensional beings come to visit before?"

"They was the cause" The robot spoke "The Inter Dimensional Police Department journeyed the void and triggered the Great Twist, tying together the worlds of radiation, leading to…"

"Robot," Fish interrupted "I know you may believe what the Snowies told you, but they were raised by a crazed IDPD agent with a flame jetpack and bouncer weapons, you can't believe whatever he tells people."

IDPD huh? Seems the police in this universe are crazy too, like those demonic ones he'd met a few multiverses to the left.

"You guys know that I'm technically a crazed IDPD agent right?" The blue covered woman asked

"Well, yeah," the bandaged one, who, he now realized, was a lady, rasped "But you're crazed because you went rogue, and Hunter's crazed because he barbecues his minions for fun."

"Can't argue with that."

"So, what is this Nuclear Throne you guys are talking about? Some kind of weapon or something?" the triangle questioned. It clearly wasn't a normal gun, otherwise he'd have knowledge about it, but bombs or melee weapons weren't in his domain.

The green fish put down his guitar and began to explain "The Nuclear Throne is… Oh wait, we haven't introduced ourselves have we? I suppose you must be a little confused."

'Oh, _wonderful._ ' Y.V. thought 'just more mortals that want me remember their names. Ugh.'

"The name's Fish" the green guitarist announced.

"Crystal." The purple gem said next.

"Rebel" The toilet paper women murmured out.

"Robot, at your service." The trashcan spoke.

Steroids, I guess." The muscle man whispered.

"Chicken."

"Blarghranspo" The green blob blurted.

"He meant Horror, he's still working on Trashtalk." Robot continued.

Y.V. was glad he could download languages at a thought, Trashtalk was a terrible name for a language.

"Hah… hahroar" The blob nodded.

"Very good Horror." Steroids smiled at the radiation.

"Rogue" the ex-invader simply stated.

"And the silent ones are Plant," Fish pointed at the plant "Eyes," he pointed at the mushroom shaped thing "and Melting." He finished at the ball of flesh on the floor. The flesh bubble when his name was said, as if popping at him was a greeting.

So there were eleven beings, not ten. Interesting.

"My name, dear mortals, in Yung Venuz. Otherwise known as the Gun God." Y.V. pronounced proudly "You may call me Y.V."

"Gun God?" Steroids asked incredulously "Are you an actual god, or is that metaphorical?"

"I can't die, I can summon guns to me if I bind them to my soul, and I can travel dimensions. I am fairly certain I'm a god."

The mutant beings stared at each other for a second then shook their heads.

"I've heard odder stories."

Y.V. would be grinning if he had a mouth.

He'd fit right in.

And then the fire flashed oddly, as if emitting a message.

Far above the mutants, Venuz's eye noticed a twist in the sky, and he sensed something. _Something larger than him, stronger than him,_ _ **more**_ _than him_. _Observing._

As he and those around him began to glow, he noticed the fire spark in response, and all went to black.

Venuz was having the oddest sense of déjà vu.

He was back at the campfire, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak, only listen and watch.

He noticed his body move without his command and look down.

"What the fuck? I'm a triangle? Freaking weird lady said I'd live, but as a triangle?"

Y.V. didn't know what was wrong with being a triangle.

It was much better than being a square.

"I still have arms and legs, that's cool I guess… SHIT! I only have one eye! What the fuck did they do to me?"

Y.V. looked around after realizing that whatever idiot was in his body wasn't very entertaining, and saw the other mutants there, hovering above their old forms, which were looking at the fire or sitting still.

Fish was shaking his head as his body struggled to play the guitar.

"She doesn't know how to play the guitar? What are they teaching kids these days?"

The other mutants were similarly murmuring over their bodies, except for Robot, who wasn't moving above his body, and Horror, who was inside his for some reason.

"Who are these wackos? Other past dying people I guess… Oy! You know where we…" His body stopped speaking after their bodies began to glow.

'Again' Y.V. reminded himself. 'We're glowing again'

The campfire was flashing like it had before, but the sky was different this time.

Instead of a _presence_ peeping through the dimensions, the stars were spiraling, dancing a dance he didn't recognize.

"It's beautiful…" The person inhabiting his body whispered out.

'No,' Venuz shuddered 'It's very, very, horrifying'

He would remember the stars in the shapes of a man and woman, strength and intelligence, worm and parasite.

Gold and Silver.

Then his body fainted, and his vision shifted.

The fire was gone.

The sky was gone.

It its place were two human woman, and a human man.

'That is a really ugly hat' Y.V. thought as he faded back into the loud boy's mind.

Doctor Mother sighed as she observed the boy writhing and mutating before her.

Another transformation, and one that definitely wasn't as hidden as the others.

What kind of power made a body into a fleshy triangle anyway?

"Door to Wiper" She announced as she carted the whimpering form to the next procedure, Contessa leaving through a door after viewing the attachment, Number Man behind her through another.

"The fire…"

She stopped. Another person mentioning a fire. The crystal boy from two months ago had mentioned one as well, a certain Terry Hess, if she was correct? Cauldron had heard no mention of it again, until the boy before her had spoken.

What connected the two? Were the agents from the same places? Maybe their powers would have similarities. Terry Hess had shield powers and could teleport to any place he could see, maybe this boy could teleport as well?

"Why couldn't the fish play guitar?" The boy laughed out, as he began to shake and giggle uncontrollably.

Or maybe this one was just mad.

"Wiper, we need this one empty. English, logic, and mathematics only please."

"Right away Doctor."

As the Doctor returned to her office, she wondered if the boy wasn't mad after all, but as she heard the screams from the fleshy triangle, she knew it was a little too late for that.

Y.V. was pissed.

After a minute or two of thought, he realized why he thought this day wasn't going so well.

He'd started the day desiring a bout of fun in the multiverse, a day or twenty shooting up bandits and evil folk while becoming stronger and maybe getting some more friends, and ended up being forced into a new body with its old tenant being deleted.

He was absolutely furious at the beings that watched, at the women and man who stared, and a little pissed at the boy who'd shared this new body for a bit.

He was furious for being cut off from his home.

He was raging that his Cuz was being left alone in his mansion with all of his junk food.

He was blisteringly mad at being taken from his prospective new friends at the campfire.

He was pissed off for being shoved near a different campfire with an imbecile in control of a similar body to his.

He was fucking angry at being shunted into a _mortal_ body of all things. One that had to eat and breathe and… poop. The horror. Not Horror though, that guy was actually alright.

He was a little sad that his old tenant had been destroyed, but then he changed his mind as he took control.

His little moment of joy was taken away though, when he was given an omega tattoo on his ass and shoved through an odd portal into the night life of a shitty city with gang tags everywhere.

He couldn't even use his air horn to blend in, those bastards.

He could understand taking someone's immortality and emergency teleport, even taking all weapons (other than his soulfused golden pistol), but taking someone's air horn?

Those were the true monsters of the universes.

He began to wander this new city, picking up his legs and floating along down the streets, looking for anything more interesting than gang signs.

It was about three minutes later when a motorcycle pulled up next to him with a human woman wearing a scarf around her face and waist. Her face was a kind one, compared to the panicked ones he'd seen fleeing from him earlier, but she had her hand on a kaleidoscoping weapon of some kind. It was a six-shooter, then a knife, then a glock, which it stayed as as she approached.

"Console this is Miss Militia, Case-53 has been spotted, I am on the approach."

"Roger that, MM, remember, Case-53s are sometimes violent, try not to seem hostile."

Venuz supposed that they didn't know he could hear them.

"Oy, Miss Militia, lady in the scarf thing, whatever your name is, you know where to find a space parasite, a golden man, a silver woman, a scary woman in a hat and suit, a blond ruffled man in a suit, or a weird doctor lady?"

The woman froze, studying him to see if he was serious.

"You… remember? The worms?"

"It's more of a parasite, but yeah, worm works. I was shoved in this fleshy sac by said space parasite with another dude, but he was deleted by some wacko with a brain wipe machine and I was then shoved into this shitty city."

As he spoke, a gunshot rang out, the bullet shattering the device the lady was speaking into earlier.

"GET DOWN!" the woman yelled as she ran towards him, tackling Y.V. to the ground as he looked for the source.

It was the woman in the crappy hat, holding a sign he knew only he could see.

'All between the second fire and the city is like fight club.'

'I won't miss next time.'

Then she turned and disappeared into the alley.

"Huh." The fleshy triangle murmured on the ground as the scarf lady started to stand "Fight Club exists here too? Sweet, wonder what differences there are in this one."

"Console! Come in Console! Damn…" Miss Militia swore as her weapon altered from a shotgun to an assault rifle in a swirl of colors.

"Right, well, apparently I can't talk about the Fight Club I just went through, so I'll just talk about the parasite."

"No, no, go back to the second person? The one you shared a body with?" the lady questioned.

He heard a cocking of a gun from the alley.

"Uh, yeah, um, can't seem to remember what I was talking about there… Uhh… yeah…" Y.V. stammered as the lady stared at him.

"Right," she said as she looked back at the bike "Can I ask you to come back to the PRT headquarters for an interview?"

"You just did, but sure. What's the PRT though? Police Reform Team? Powerful Reject Tracker? Potential Rodent Takedown?" Y.V. asked, leaving Miss Militia doubtlessly confused.

"PRT stands for Parahuman Response Team, you are a parahuman, a person with powers, able to do umm, your floaty thing, as well as, maybe, other things. You may be in a state of shock or duress, and we really do want to make sure you're alright." The lady told him with a warm smile on her face.

"Ehh, I've been feeling a little less immortal than last night, so I might as well. Just make sure this 'interview' isn't an interrogation and we'll be fine."

"Right, well how about you hop on my…" She then looked down at his lack of posterior "Hmm, can you fly at high speeds or just walking pace?"

"It's actually hovering, but to answer your question, I'm not sure. Let me remember." He blinked, then spoke again. "Right, it's 3.333 meters max above the ground, 33.333 meters per second in any 2D direction, so not up or down, and it can support 333.333 Newtons of weight." Y.V. spoke as if reading from a guide book.

"Is that exact or estimated?" The woman asked him.

"Well should I say .333 continued or just round it? I always go to three decimal places, but this world might be odd and use hexadecimal system or something."

"World? Which world are you… No, I'll leave this for the interview." Miss Militia sighed "Can you match my speed?"

"No prob, Miss." The triangle hovered as the lady mounted her bike "Go when ready, I'll catch up."

The two sped off down the road, at a low enough speed for Y.V. to ask a final question.

"Do you know where I can find an infinite air horn?"

And Miss Militia, who just wanted a damn coffee at 3:00AM in the morning, sped off just a _little_ faster.


	11. Fragmentation 10

Fragmentation 1.10

(Michael Capris)

December 24, 2010

"Merry almost Christmas dad." Josephine smiled down at him, tears brimming her eyes. "I know it's been a while since mom or I have visited but I can't just leave you here alone on Christmas can I?"

He tried to smile back at his little girl, but he couldn't.

It's been two months since he'd last been able to smile, but a week since he'd last wanted to, when he was told by his wife, Andrea, that Josephine was coming to visit for Christmas. She was taking time off her job in Philadelphia, and as he and Andrea suspected, her new boyfriend. Andrea had told him Josephine had a new 'friend' named Chad, but he'd never heard of a nice Chad before, so he'd have to see if this was just a friend.

He wished he could tease her about it, remind her of the six gauge back home. Not her home anymore, nor his. Just Andrea's. Tears then joined his eyes as well.

She'd arrived early Christmas Eve and was staying until the 26th to catch him up on her life, as he couldn't really call to ask himself.

It was a tradition they set up almost two years ago to the day when he was first bedridden in the hospital. Andrea or Josephine would visit at least once every week and talk about what had happened in their lives, how the Joneses next door were doing, how his mother-in-law was handling dementia, or how Josephine's job search was going. His wife kept the schedule going, even while his not so little girl drove off and grew up. His friends from college stopped by every now and then, asking if he saw the game last night, even though they knew he'd never enjoyed watching sports, but it was a once a month thing, instead of the insistent mother-henning of his wife.

It didn't help that she was a first responder and knew what was going on with him.

Michael didn't understand _exactly_ what was happening to him, but he'd seen the horror on the faces of Andrea's colleagues when they found him crawling on the road.

He knew it had something to do with the Ellisburg-Mannsville War that started almost ten years ago, but he didn't know for sure which side it was that had planted the bomb that gave him this disease. The doctors, after he and Andrea forced them to, told him that it may have even been a fusion of both parties.

The Necromancers, who lived in Mannsville, and the Goblin King, who lived in Ellisburg, were the factions in the war. Michael lived in Watertown, New York, about 30 minutes north of both cities, which happened to be the closest inhabitable city near the warzone. He had tried to take a shortcut home and made a wrong turn on Interstate 81 on the day he was afflicted with his, thankfully, non-contagious plague. Two years and some change ago, this turn led him to The Dome.

The Dome was actually spherical in nature, built to contain the war within its border, but the portion left above the surface gave it its name.

It was the second-to-last thing built by Sphere (posthumously revealed to be named Alan Gramme by his wife, Catherine Gramme) before his death fighting The Simurgh on his moon base, Lumos Alphos.

Alan Gramme was a man every father could look up to, both for what he did for his wife and two kids in his final moments, and for what he did for mankind during his life.

Alan's last stand began, according to his wife, when he'd realized he hadn't been caring for his family, having submerged himself into his Tinker work, with little acknowledgement for his two girls and his wife.

He'd been working on Lumos Alphos remotely when he reportedly overheard his daughter Sara telling her sister, Alexis, about the moon landing in '69. Alan had recorded it, and his wife released it to the public for the 5th anniversary of his death earlier this year, titled "Why Sphere Went to the Moon."

"-and then they went in this Biiiiiiig rocketship that went PSHOWOWAAUUUGHH and it flew into the sky with fire and explosions but not real explosions because that's bad, and that was to carry only three people in this tiny box that was on top of the rocket! And they flew it to space and the moon and then around the moon like WHEEEEEEE…" Sara went on and on, all while Alexis was giggling madly on the floor, her sister circling around her.

"And the three astronauts went around the moon like WHOOSH, KAPOW, except not KAPOOOW because that's a bad noise in space, except there's not noise in space, so Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Aldrin were sent to the moon by, uhhh… Hey Dad!" Sara stopped running to look at the camera "What's the third astronaut's name again?"

"Michael Collins, dear."

"Thanks dad!" She jumped to spin around towards her sister. "And Mr. Collins sent Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Aldrin to the moon while he stayed flying above it and they LANDED THE BOX ON THE MOON!"

"Really?" Alexis whispered with wonder up at her sister, who was nodding vigorously.

"Yep! And they _barely_ had any fuel to get back! But while they were there the jumped around like this!"

The way she jumped always reminded Michael of a game Josephine used to play with her cousins, bouncing around the room yelling "Boing, Boing, BOIIIING!", trying to make the bounces as long as possible by pulling in her legs.

"I wanna go to the moon!" Alexis yelled out, giggling like a miniature maniac.

"Me too! But Daddy says people don't go to the moon anymore because of the… the… umm…. Bird lady thing." Sara responded just as vigorously.

"Huh," Alan whispered into his camera, turning back to his workshop, "Maybe…"

And the video cut off there. His wife once told reporters that Alan was so taken with the idea that he forgot to turn off the camera, so the following twelve hours of video, which was how long the battery had left, was nothing but Tinker nonsense,.

Eight months after that video was filmed, Alan reportedly asked his family to join him on a surprise vacation to a secret location, eventually, after being told to open their eyes to a rocket, revealed to be his completed biosphere on the moon. A week-long journey followed, in which Alan spent time playing games with his family and doing something he hadn't done since he'd gotten powers: take a break.

The Gramme family arrived to Lumos Alphos to find a glittering sphere of pure white, with windows dotting the surface, and a secondary sphere behind it, which, when questioned of its purpose, told his family it was a surprise. The family spent two weeks exploring the surface of the moon, all jumping as Sara had in the video, riding the rovers Alan had made, and having a very wonderful vacation.

It was interrupted, however, by the worst news they could have gotten. The Simurgh, in all her horrifying glory, was attacking their hometown. Apparently enraged by the lack of Sphere, the Simurgh turned to the moon, and headed for them.

Catherine had joked in an interview before falling to tears that even the Simurgh couldn't see Alan taking a vacation to spend time with his family.

But when the Simurgh turned and flew upwards to come for them, Alan Gramme, the soon to be world-proclaimed "Greatest Father in the World" turned to his family, kissed them all, then ordered his drones to put them in the last escape pod back to Earth.

"This is all according to plan, my dear," He had told Catherine, who was crying and shaking from inside the pod "I love you with all my heart, but a man must know when his time is up. Take care of Sara and Alexis for me, will you?"

As she nodded, he turned, went to the control panel, and whispered "I love you all…" before launching them back to Earth.

Nobody knows for sure what exactly happened after they were launched away from the moon and the Simurgh, but they do know of the outcome.

The second biosphere, named the Birdcage in Alan's notes, was a sphere not meant for sustainability, but for containment, and did just that. The Birdcage, Sphere's greatest masterpiece, was a trap meant for the winged monster herself, and ended the shortest and least deadly Endbringer attack of all.

With one casualty.

Alan Gramme, the hero known as Sphere, and the World's Greatest Father, was stranded on the moon with the world's most feared demon until his suspected death.

Their battle could be seen with the naked eye, the surface of the moon being littered with new craters individually made from pieces of a scattered Lumos Alphos, explosions going off all over the surface, and, with a telescope, the Simurgh with a face of pure rage.

The battle ended after an hour with quiet. Space agencies around the world reported stillness from the previous location of Lumos Alphos. There was no movement from the Birdcage, and no sightings from the Simurgh.

For all the man's faults as a family man before the vacation, Alan Gramme was good at one thing: getting the job done.

For thirteen months, there were no sightings of the Simurgh, no movement from the Birdcage, and sadly, no visuals on Alan Gramme.

Then, the Birdcage began to shake, and according to observatories in Mauna Kea, hop. The hearts of men and women across the globe trembled when the sphere jumped across the surface of the moon, and mankind was heartbroken to find that the winged one lived, even with a thirteen month silence.

Fourteen months after Alan Gramme's solo battle with the winged monster, the Simurgh broke out of her shell, scattering the pieces of the once-thought impenetrable fortress across the moon, and returned to Earth immediately attacking Houston in a fit of rage.

Alan Gramme had done the impossible and delayed an Endbringer attack by two months, and the Simurgh knew it.

For there wasn't a Houston, Texas anymore.

Michael still wasn't sure what came over him when he saw The Dome rise into the sky in front of him, but it led to where he was now.

He knew that'd he'd made a mistake when he saw it in the distance, but he understood how much trouble he was really in when he tried to turn around and hit a patch of ice from the snowstorm two days before.

He'd never thought he'd hate a white Christmas before, but there he was, skidding into the forest, past rusted fences, cursing at Christmas carols.

He remembered feeling a jolt after that, car stopping abruptly, and then speeding upwards as the car flipped multiple times. Somehow, between the flipping and the landing, he had crawled out of the car and stumbled to the road.

He next woke up in the hospital to the sound his wife crying behind the door to a sealed room he was inside, as doctors in Hazmat suits stood around him with odd devices. A mask was immediately placed on his face, and he felt his body _writhe_ under the doctors' hands as he blacked out again.

It was three days later when he was allowed out of quarantine, December 28th, and his wife immediately grabbed him and sobbed in his shoulder. He looked at the doctor, panicking over the possibility that he could be contagious, but he just smiled sadly at the duo.

Michael began to cry as well.

The disease which inflicted him was an odd one, decaying all muscled in his limbs and starting on the others, but it wasn't supposed to be life threatening as long as he was in the hospital. He had overheard an intern discussing while he was supposed to be asleep that the plague was likely meant to immobilize prey before one of the Goblin King's minions needed food, and the thought sent shivers to his spine.

He couldn't feel shivers anymore either.

But it was Christmas now, and both Josephine and Andrea were there holding his hands. And even though he couldn't feel them, he appreciated the gesture.

This year they had gotten him the complete collection of Friends and its parahuman parallel, ParaFriends to watch, as he had missed the last season of the second due to his infliction. He also received the year's newest smartphone with an app for glasses that could control it by flicking eyes around. As they were the only working muscles other than the necessary ones left, he was thankful. He had DVDs and CDs from all of his and Andrea's friends as well as some audiobooks, and he was appreciative for those as well.

But there was something wrong.

Josephine wasn't smiling as brightly as usual, and Andrea looked out the window from time to time, blinking harshly every now and then.

'Tick tock tack tick' the new phone made noises as he typed with his eyes.

'What is wrpng?'

Andrea winced as she read the words, eyes tearing up once more.

"Oh honey… There's nothing wrong. It's just…"

"Goddamn it mom, stop it!" Josephine yelled as tears rolled down her face. "Stop trying to hide it! He needs to know!"

'Tock tack tick tock tack tock tick'

'What is goinh on?'

"Mom, if you won't say it I will." His daughter told his wife resolutely.

His wife, his beautiful, amazing wife, shut her eyes harshly and sobbed.

"This is… your _last_ Christmas, Michael. We don't have the money anymore… and… Goddamn it…" Andrea cursed, and grabbed on to him in a hug as she sobbed anew.

Oh.

His tears joined his family's, as Josephine grabbed hold as well.

Oh.

I'm going to die.

His daughter cried out from his armpit, "You need to give him the date, mom. You have to."

'Tack tick tick tock'

'How long do I have left honey? No lies.'

His wife couldn't answer, as she was crying uncontrollably into his neck.

"The money runs out in three weeks, dad." Josephine was standing now, wiping her eyes. "The doctors say you can live for two hours without help from the hospital."

Michael realized that in her state, his wife would begin to sell essential things to make him last longer. He'd known she'd already sold his and her car, and was relying on her neighbors or public transportation to get to the hospital, but he needed to make sure she didn't sell more.

'Tack tick tock tock tack'

'Do NOT SEll the house Andrea, my lofe isn't worth the house being sold. 'A man must know when his time is up' remember.'

As Josephine read the message aloud, he felt Andrea freeze against him. Josephine noticed, and had frozen too as she finished.

"Mom… mom, please tell me you didn't…"

"Michael… oh Michael…" Andrea spoke from his neck. "I sold the house last month."

As she cried again, Michael had his turn to freeze.

His heart pounded in his chest as he repeated to himself: 'No, nonononono, she can't have, that's her parent's house, she can't have sold it, we worked so hard on it, it can't be gone, nonono…'

Michael repeated the words to himself as his heart pounded on, louder than his wife's words.

"Michael! Michael what's wrong! Doctor, what's wrong with…"

"Get out of the room, he's going into…"

As the words repeated in his mind, Michael's vision faded to black, and he felt _PAIN._

A campfire flickered, shining warmly in front of him, casting a light across eleven other figures above him.

'Gurgle… POP'

'Was that me?' he thought.

The fish, no, Fish was sitting next to him and looked at him as he popped.

"Everything will be fine, just wait, you'll see."

He could sense the care in the voice, and turned back to the fire as it flashed at him.

He saw sparks flicker from the peak of the flame, floating skyward at a lazy pace, then lost sight of it in the field of stars above him.

As he observed them twist in the sky, he realized they were dancing, something he hadn't done for ages.

He remembered the first time he tried to dance with Andrea at a homecoming dance in senior year, and giggled as his vision faded once more.

 _PAIN_

 _PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN._

His body screamed at him, burning with pain as his body writhed as it had the night he'd been put here, and he realized something else was hurting too.

He was screaming.

He could scream!

OH! He was screaming! And he could stop!

He opened his eyes to see his family remove their hands from their ears, looking at him fearfully. The doctor above him was looking at his body with fascination, all while calling others to the room.

"Doctor Freed, please come to room 7132, patient Michael Capris has activated his Corona Pollentia. I repeat, Michael Capris has an activated Corona Pollentia."

He could hear something below him exploding, spreading from below his left to below his right, seemingly moving from one side of the hospital to the other.

"Report! What is going on?" a voice yelled from the radio.

"We don't know! We lost contact with floor 5 a few second ago but we don't know what happened." Another voice replied.

"The morgue? Why would the morgue go silent? I'm going down there now, send back up if I don't respond."

"Sir, be careful! We don't know what Capris could have done!"

What… had he done? He awoke in pain, and felt something in him flicker on and off for some time, but it was silent now, as if awaiting activation.

"Alright, I've got good news and bad news, which first Bleiker?"

"Uhhh, good? No! Bad first, definitely, bad." The doctor in Michael's room spoke, as Josephine and Andrea approached him.

"Okay, bad news it is. Everyone on floor five is gone, suspected dead."

"Jesus…"

"All that's left are there purplish piles of… ash I think…"

"And the good news?"

"There are two bits. One, I'm alive." Bleiker laughed nervously from his side.

"And two, it hasn't spread anymore. Now we need to move Capris out of the hospital in case it happens again, and…"

"We can't do that," Bleiker replied.

"And why not?"

"He's, uh… a little attached to his bed right now."

What?

Michael lifter his head (He could lift his head!) to see that his body had, for lack of a better term, melted into the bed, and his new tech glasses had fused to his head.

'Pop, gurgle'

'Tock tick tack'

"Oh, the phone!" Andrea exclaimed as she ran to where he had seemingly thrown the phone.

'What happenedd?/'

"Well, Mr. Capris," Doctor Bleiker responded "It appears you are now a brand new parahuman."

Michael stared at him in shock.

"I'd tell you congrats, but you just went through a very rough moment, and I don't want to anger you."

'Tick splot tock tack'

'Whyt woiulds I be mafd?'

"Well," Doctor Bleiker continued "You, uhh, may or may not have accidentally killed all twenty four people that were on the 5th floor."

He heard Josephine whimper as another doctor charged in the door.

"Bleiker! We do not tell newly triggered patients that they killed people! Rule 21 exists for a reason! That could cause them to go into…"

Michael faded to black once more.

"Oh, you're back." The fire in front of him and fish next to him seemed to speak together "That was fast."

Michael glanced at Fish as the fire flickered on.

"Look kid, you probably just went through something pretty shitty, but I have to tell you something before you go, you most of all."

"Whatever you do, don't touch the flickering thing in you now, you're in a hospital, and if you do, everyone will die but you, got that?"

Michael froze, and nodded sharply.

"Right, so, normally, you're supposed to know what you can do before you return here, but you, uhh, didn't last that long."

Michael let them continue.

"You, my melting friend, can detonate dead bodies, or at least, that's what you used to be able to do. Now, you can detonate anyone moderately injured or dead with ease, as well as take more hits than usual, survive any explosion, and can take a dying would once for no further effect."

Michael was shocked, as he realized he actually was a parahuman.

With powers.

Actual, powers. With explosions.

"Right, that's enough from me, have fun, don't die, and say hello to Plant when you see him."

"Wait, wha…" Michael tried to speak and the Fish pushed him into the fire, and black consumed him.

"…fucking tell new triggers they killed people! Goddamn it Bleiker I told you 21 was important and now… oh, he's awake."

Michael creaked open his eyes to see three new doctors around him, as well as Doctor Bleiker in the corner being berated by the one from the radio.

"Right, he's stable, but his second trigger gave him something new, that we're not… really sure of."

"What happened?"

"His skin appears to have hardened dramatically, so much that I can't put my syringe in, his internal body temperature rose by about 90 degrees Celcius, and he uh… has a halo."

"A halo? Like art thou holy halo?"

"Yeah."

"Is this a message from God saying he didn't mean to kill twenty four people?"

Michael shivered, and was oddly pleased he could do so again. He opened his eyes again to see that his family had been removed from the premises, which he was both happy, and depressed to see.

"Right," Michael felt a light shine in his left eye, then his right. "Mr. Capris, can you tell us what happened?"

The doctor was holding the phone, so Michael went to answer.

'Tick tock tack tack tick tock tack'

"What's it say?"

'I'm sorry. I can detonate dead bodies, but I found the trigger now. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry'

"We know you are Mr. Capris, you aren't responsible for this, and we all know that, but please tell me one thing before we discuss the law." Doctor Bleiker spoke with the nods of his colleagues.

'Tack'

'Yes.?'

"Did it hurt when you fell from…"

"Goddamn it Bleiker."

Michael smiled for the first time in two months, and laughed for the first in seven.


	12. Fragmentation 11

Fragmentation 1.11

(Lucas Promer)

May 20, 2005

"Despite what you all may believe, my father was not a fearless man."

The black-clothed tide of people stilled as my words rang out, silence overcoming the murmurs that echoed during my brief pause.

"He was a worrywart," some of the younger children giggled as the men and women who worked with him, towards the front of the crowd, nodded "always picking over every plan and idea to be sure everyone got out alive, to make sure everyone made it home to their families and friends at the end of the day."

My mom was crying into the shoulder of her brother-in-law, who had de-masked for the funeral and was tearing up as well.

"And it worked. Every single man and woman who worked with him is still alive, because my father chose the men and women he cared for as brothers and sisters over himself. He chose to become the sacrificial lamb, and die to save the Laborers."

"But we are lost without him, in more ways than one… He was leader to many, a father figure to others, but most importantly," I paused, as my eyes misted over "he was a hero."

A camera flash lit up from beyond the fence at the back of the field, caused me to blink quickly, and I watched a security guard leave to apprehend the culprit.

"Most of you here knew him as Workforce, of his duty to the city of Portland and its surrounding towns, of his commitment to the protection of the state of Maine, and of his devotion to the population of the United States."

"He was the man who led the largest independent hero team in North America, but he was only one of two parahumans on the team." The team smiled brightly at me from the front row as I revealed the truth behind them, and the rest of the crowd grew wide-eyed and gasped. "My father was not the leader of a similarly-powered family, as many of you were led to believe, but he was the mayor of a community, of the town of Rockland, Maine, James Promer." Thousands of mouths opened, and I was proud I had been able to do what my father once had done before his powers.

"In my father's final will, he asked me to read this letter to the public as an apology to the people of Maine for this deceit." I cleared my throat and opened up the second sheet of paper on the podium.

"'Dear friends, family, and those who showed up to my death day party,'" mom groaned from her seat and put her head in her hands, "'I'm so happy you all showed up, and even happier that I'm not there to see the depressing field you probably shoved my body box in the middle of.'" I started smiling at the next words, trying to hold in my laughs and tears at the same time.

"'So how bad is it? Are there thousands surrounding my dead body like they have a…' I'm not reading that line due to the younger audience. 'Oh wait, are there kids here? Uh, son, if you are the one reading this, skip the last line please. Even though I kicked the bucket, the Laborers have been PG since my brother and I started it, and I don't want to hurt some kid's innocence about the birds and bees even after I'm dead. Anyway, continuing now.'" The adults were laughing nervously, as the kids in the mass of people looked at their parents confused.

"'I suppose you are all wondering why I convinced the country and world that the Laborers were all related, and this letter is here to explain what my brother and I can do, why I did what I did, and who my family really is.'" I could see the reporters outside the graveyard tense in preparation, while the front row nodded encouragingly. "'I guess you must also be really surprised to hear my explanation as to why I 'infiltrated' (son, be sure to use air quotes on that word) the mayor's office of Rockland, as parahumans aren't allowed to hold office, but I'm currently looking at my law book, and I'm sure even the PRT will agree with me on my decision. According to United States law, a parahuman is not allowed to be _elected_ into office, but there is no law against _holding_ office. So, too bad critics, I can do what I want!'" Some people in the crowd snorted and laughed, while those with powers winced at the implications.

"'But back to powers. My brother was known as Organyzer (Why did he decide to go with the 'y'? I never knew if he was trying to seem cool or look like an idiot.) in suit, and had the ability to strengthen any person or a group of people to a high Brute rating, with the strength increasing inversely to the amount of people. So basically, when he focuses on one person, they can be strong enough to lift about 20 tons, but on thousands they can be as strong as a heavyweight lifter in the Olympics of old. My power, as Workforce, was disputed by the public for ages, and nobody guessed it right, even after 12 years of activity. So ha! I told you Marcie! Even with my name, my power would stay secret! Ha! Ha! Ha! I'm getting off track again, aren't I?'" Mom was laughing along with the crowd now, and I noticed the tears beginning to leave many eyes around the field. Seems even after he was gone, dad could always get people to smile.

"'I really wish I could have been there like I expected to be, to explain what I can do, but if this is being read, then I'm dead and gone, and not able to laugh at the idiots in the media who thought I was secretly a master and could control everyone with blood relation to me. Whatever, big reveal time now? Sigh, this is hard. How do I explain this? Well, the media hounds were right about one thing; I _was_ a Master, just not with control powers. I suppose the official rating would be a Master/Brute, but I never was a part of the Protectorate, so I don't really know. My power is (pause for effect) to enhance the bodies of those around me with my own. Including, but not limited to, limbs, hearts, muscles, eyes, and even, um… other things. Thinking of you Bryan!'" Bryan turned bright red in the front row, and covered his face with his hands "'I can also change them back, so the women on the team aren't stuck with a man's physique. This should explain to you all how I made my team, but if not, you're missing something in the head. Just think of me and my brother's power for a second… got it? Good. Now you see how the Laborers came to exist.'" I looked up to see thousands of faces pondering the information they just heard, and the smug faces of the ex-Laborers hugging each other's shoulders.

"'Right, well, I don't want to take up any more time at my own funeral, so I'll let my final written words be these: To my family, I love you all. To my friends, thanks for putting up with me and my crappy jokes. And to the media, fuck off. This is Mayor James Promer of Rockland, Maine, and Workforce of the Laborers, signing off. '" I watched the various expressions flicker across the faces of the masses and smiled, continuing my own speech.

"As you can see, my father likes to make most people smile," I waited for the crowd to settle down, then continued "Other than the media, who tried to frame him for at least twelve murders, thirty robberies, and two charges of possession, he enjoyed the presence of anyone he met. Just because my father was a supporter of legal marijuana, doesn't mean he used it." The happiness of my dad's words were fading now, and I changed tones to match that.

"I said it at the beginning, and I'll say it again, my father, is not a fearless man. He is a man of integrity, a man of compassion, and a man of strength, but one thing he wasn't was fearless. He was scared of death, of those around him meeting it, and of those that could kill with ease. He always told me that strength was useless unless you had the intelligence to back it up, and that without intelligence, those around you had a good chance of meeting an unhappy end. No, my father wasn't without fear, but he was brave. Because every day he went to work or went to lead the Laborers to victory or defeat, he went with that fear in his heart. He chose to go out into the sun with fear consuming him as he worried over how the men and women of the Laborers would make it home at the end of the day." I paused before I read the next words.

"And that was how he died." I could feel the tears rise again "Worrying over how we would all survive the waves from Newfoundland, when they were breaching the walls of our house. He forced us into the sailboat that had washed up into our dining room, while he alone held up the wall that was keeping the water from us all. 'Don't worry everyone.' He said as our group looked from inside the boat 'You'll get out of this, I'm sure.'" I wiped my eyes before I continued "And then he kicked off the boat, and forced us to leave, all while he held up the wall that was keeping us alive." The Laborers had their heads held down as many people were openly crying.

"He was saluting, when I last saw him. We were cresting the wave that doubled the size of the house, and he was standing on the roof, just… saluting at us… completely accepting of his coming death."

Most were openly weeping now, and I had to blurt out the last few words before I broke down.

"Even in the end, he was brave, he was strong, he was… accepting. I'm sure that the fear was present in his final moments, but he saw us go over the wave, and I'm sure… I'm…"

I couldn't do it, watching my mom run up to me and cart me offstage as my uncle went up to speak next, I bawled, and the world grew silent around me.

My dad was dead.

My dad was dead, and I couldn't do anything about it.

Oh god how I missed him.

November 24th 2010

Oh god, how I needed it.

"Mom! Where's the toilet paper!" I yelled across the house from my mother, who was in the kitchen.

"In the pantry! It should be under the paper towels!" She yelled in response, watching as I darted past her to the pantry.

"Gotta poop, gotta poop, gotta poop." I repeated out loud as my mom rolled her eyes at me.

"I didn't need to know that sweetie." She said to me as I ran back to the bathroom. "Oh! And how's that paper you're supposed to be writing coming?"

"Thanks for the reminder mom," I responded with a tad of sarcasm "it's not like you haven't reminded me of it the past few days, _even though_ it's going to be published next month."

"I know Lucas, but you have to finish it eventually," she sighed exasperatedly "you have a rather powerful tendency to wait until the night before something's due before turning in your work."

"Last minute panic is the greatest inspiration mom!" I spoke out before I shut the door "Why else do you think my second paper was so well taken?"

I heard the sigh from beyond the door, and I giggled. It was true, no matter what people say. Panic is a great performance enhancer, more than any drug I'd used before, and I've only written one professional paper without it.

Ten minutes later I was done, and I heard my mom yelling from the kitchen again. "Sweetie can you check the weather channel for me? I think this storm is getting worse."

I stepped out of the bathroom to see the windows flowing with water, almost as if… "Mom? Behemoth is supposed to be the next attack, right?" I asked nervously.

"Yeah, Leviathan attacked Algiers three months ago, why?"

"This storm reminds me of… _that_ night." He face went ashen at my comment "Sorry, it's just…"

"No, I get it. But we moved inland for a reason, Lucas. The oceans haven't been the same since that monster started his attacks. Now, what does the weather say?"

"Uh, we're in a tornado alert right now, but it's saying there's a seventy percent chance that there'll be a tornado warning soon. Does that mean we go to the basement or something?"

"No that's only if the tornado warning starts. Didn't you do drills in high school?"

"We did, but they enforced Endbringer safety over natural disasters. Do you think this storm could be bad?"

"Maine only has about one tornado a year, but this could be a bad one. Let's go to the basement and hunker down for now, I don't want to risk it."

"Sure mom."

I would later think it was odd how nonchalantly we handled the incoming threat. One of the most disastrous events in the country before the Endbringers, and we just shrugged our shoulders, and headed towards the basement. It had to do with the Endbringer attacks, of course, as anything less than city destroying was not to be alarmed about. High schools no longer did tornado drills much anymore, usually once a year, while Endbringer drills were held at least twice a month. A sound mimicking a train interrupted the levity of the situation. The sirens that followed destroyed it.

"Mom, go now!" I screamed at her as we ran down to our safe room. The crashing sounds behind us as we shut the door confirming our fears. The sounds blasted my ears, overpowering the sound of mom's screams next to me. The door was beginning to shake, and I saw the celling begin to crack.

"Get to the back of the room!"

"What?!"

I turned and moved her to the corner of the room, the one place furthest underground in the house, and turned back to see the entrance of the room beginning to fall down. I caught it as my mom screamed behind me.

"Shit, not good." I grunted under the weight of the door and whatever had pushed it down, muscles straining as I was slowly crushed.

'I'm not strong enough' I panicked inside my head as I felt my joints creak 'Fuck, this hurts!'

I looked back at mom one more time to see her with her eyes closed, murmuring to herself. I doubt I could hear her even without the storm blowing up my eardrums.

My legs collapsed (Oh god, the pain! The burning!) under me and the wall fell further towards my mom.

'I am not letting her die. Not her too.' I repeated, even as my arm muscles felt as if they'd snap.

The sound of the storm was dying now, but the weight of the debris felt as if it were continuing to increase. The water of the storm was dripping into the room, sprinkling my face as the sounds of my mother crying behind me finally overcame the retreating sounds of the storm.

"I'm… ok mom… just… resting…"

I turned my head, and saw her white face behind her hands.

"What's… wrong… mom?"

"Your legs, sweetie, your legs are… broken."

I hadn't noticed, too busy straining against the weight of the debris to care about something as petty as pain in my legs. It was my arms that I was worried about, because once they broke…

We'd both be dead.

I had to be stronger that the wall, just until mom got out of this.

If she didn't get out of this, with or without me, I was going to come back from the underworld and attacking some storms.

Then the wall shifted down some more, and I panicked. It wasn't letting up, and my arms were burning, almost as if they were getting ready to snap.

I wasn't strong enough, and I hear my mom scream as the pain caused me to black out.

A campfire with flashing in front of me, and I was calm.

The pain was gone, the strain was gone, and the debris was gone.

I was calm, and wondered to myself if this was heaven, or hell.

I thought I was rather deserving of heaven, but the fire seemed to point towards the opposite.

The sound of a guitar playing interrupted my thoughts, and I looked away from the flame to see a fish next to me. It was playing an odd, but pleasant tune, and stopped when I looked at him (her?).

"We're speeding things up for you, just so you know, so don't be disorientated when you wake up, alright?"

I nodded, uncomprehending, as he pointed back towards the flickering fire.

"Sorry 'bout the legs, kid. Try and get some radiation to fix it."

I watched sparks rise to the sky, and began to see the stars dance.

I then understood what he said.

"What was tha-"

Blackness overcame me.

The scream tore through my mind as I saw the wall begin to push away from me, and I wasn't sure what was worse. The rippling through my upper body, or the terrified screams of my mother.

The wall had blasted through the debris holding it down, and there was a clear path out of the hole we were in. The scream had stopped, and I twisted to look back at mom, who wore shock on her face as she stared at me.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I was… going to ask the same thing."

I looked down to see what she was looking at, and giggled a bit.

"Seems dad is looking after us even now, huh?" She giggled at my words, reaching the same conclusion.

My body had changed, altering itself into a hulking mass of muscle that would have made my uncle's targets jealous. But I looked further down, and winced.

My mother wasn't lying when she said my legs were broken, just understating how bad it was.

I didn't have legs anymore.

Well, I did. Just nothing below the calf.

Broken off at the knee, it seemed like my joint had torn itself apart under the pressure, leaving everything below the smoothed over end missing.

My power seemed to have healed me a bit, but couldn't fix my legs, just stopping the bleeding.

My arms were massive, almost tree trunk in width, and my shirt appeared to have been shredded in my growth.

With the ease that I threw the debris through the house, I figured I grew strength to match the muscles, but I couldn't be sure if I was stronger then I biologically was. Not with the family history of powers.

I heard sirens cut out where the tornado was headed, and wondered if it was a good thing.

"Mom, we need to get out of here, are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. But your legs… Can you get out?"

"I think I can crawl my way out just fine, and if I lift my waist up a bit I can walk on my hands."

"Alright, I'll lead the way just to be sure. I don't want you cutting your hands on any glass though, so we'll go to the… what used to be the garage."

"Sure mom. I'm really glad you're okay. I'd don't know what would have happened if you got hurt."

"I don't know Lucas, but I wouldn't have been able to do anything else if you hadn't made it. I was terrified you had died when your legs gave out. I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you too…"

She looked away and coughed, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Let's… let's get out of here, sweetie."

"Alright mom."

We climbed out of the hole in the center of our demolished house and looked around, observing the destroyed landscape for miles.

"Hey, mom."

"Yes Lucas."

"I think I'm going to have to turn in that paper late."

We both laughed as the rain finally petered out, the sounds of ambulance sirens ringing in the distance.

'We'd be fine,' I thought 'we always find a way.'


	13. Fragmentation 12

Fragmentation 1.12

(H.T.F. Plant)

October 29, 2010

Deep in the woods surrounding what used to be the city of Mannsville, a white plant flowed in the breeze. The plant, with a blood red mouth, green vines, and a pale, slimy head, was clinging to a dead tree, vines wrapped tightly around the trunk. A sound clanged from the edges of the facility, and the plant turned, cocking its head to the side as if listening to something interesting. A green figure with red eyes covering its body skittered out of the building, darting around while murmuring faint nonsense, and the plant began to grin, its teeth dripping with fluid.

The plant, called the H.T.F. Plant, was assigned a mission by his lord, his reward being a meal made of Freaks, and a bath in the UV Room. The UV room wasn't really necessary to him or the other plant beings, he could get by without it as long as he ate some freaks, but it did give him a chance to relax for a few days.

His mission was to remove forty Freaks and destroy their bodies, making sure to leave nothing for the Necro Freaks to revive.

The Freak in front of him was one of the basics, one he was trained to hunt and kill, and thus, an acceptable target.

Plant focused his ears on the target, and crawled down the tree to the forest floor, vines carefully avoiding every branch and dried leaf to stop making noises that'd announce his presence.

He wanted a clean, quiet, calm kill to start his hunt off, without biting, or smashing, or exploding.

He really didn't want an exploding Freak, those were bad news.

The Freak near the edge of the forest was chattering to itself as it started eating a large mushroom near the edge, clearly trying to get a snack in before the 22 bell.

Nearing the mushroom the Freak was munching on, Plant paused as it froze. Had it heard him? He'd been silent, he'd made sure of that, but what else could it be?

The freak looked up, still chewing on the cap, and nervously glanced around in the direction of the plant.

He assumed it was using infrared sight, unless the Lab had improved the Freaks' hearing somehow, but he wasn't sure until a rustling sounded behind him.

Immediately, he stuck his head underground, leaving his vine legs sticking in the air, resembling the plant his vines were made from, the Witchhazel.

It was an Explo Freak, dripping heated material onto the ground and Plant's legs, and darting faster than he could move at top speed towards the normal Freak. The Freak jumped in surprise when the Explo Freak rounded the shroom, but seemed to sigh as the Explo gurgled at it in a queer form of laughing. The normal spat at the Explo, and the dripping Freak gurgled its way into the facility, leaving the normal to the mushroom.

That was far too close for him. Explo Freaks were feared across the Kingdom as the bane of all creatures, rushing at speeds greater than any soldier or servant in his lord's populace, and exploding into a flaming fireball when getting near to a target. He wasn't sure how it had missed him, but he was thankful that he wasn't currently scattered into charred plant matter across the forest.

Now to finish off the normal.

Plant remove its head from the ground and turned its attention back to the Freak that was almost done with the cap of the shroom. Not much fungi matter to hide behind now, but it would do.

The white plant crept around the stem, opening its jaw to swallow the Freak whole, and waited under the Freak as it finished the cap. Plant kicked the stem of the mushroom, causing the Freak on top to shriek (in horror or annoyance, he didn't know) as it fell.

His jaw snapped shut, his teeth crunching the skull of the normal as its cries stopped abruptly. He missed the taste of Freaks, having been on a break after his last run it with a Rhino, but the flow of its blood was a great reminder of why he hunted for his lord.

It was really the only reason he listened to what his lord said, other than the UV room.

Focusing his attention back to the delicious center of the normal, he relished the taste and forgot his misgivings of his boss.

Now was not the time for thoughts of mutiny.

Thirty nine more and his quota would be met. He felt his body turn the normal Freak's flesh into energy, and sighed as the feeling of _joy_ flooded through his body.

Back to the hunt.

He was at number twenty eight when the first Rhino was sent out to seek answers. Rhinos weren't his favorite target, but his lord told him they were worth five if he could get one, so he'd have to try.

Rhino Freaks were one of the toughest beings in the Sphere, second only to the mysterious Master of Mannsville, and there was a great reason for it. Rhino Freaks were made of two things: crystals and muscles. Any of the creatures living under his lord that had successfully killed one said they tasted of strength and something called rock candy. He'd tried to find out what they'd meant a few cycles ago, but that led to him going on a 'break', having lost most of his limbs and his lower jaw. Now that his teeth had been upgraded, and his vines strengthened, he believed he had a shot at finally figuring out what this 'rock candy' tasted like.

The Rhino was panning its head left to right, scanning the forest to find what could have possibly caused twenty eight normals to vanish without a trace. It was massive, about twice the size of Plant, and if he hadn't had an upgrade, he'd be terrified of its piercing gaze. He was waiting at the top of a rotted tree, listening to the earth tremble beneath the Rhino's feet, when the Rhino stopped and looked up.

At him.

Shit.

The Rhino growled beneath him, and stalked forwards towards the trunk of the dead tree, arms reaching out to snap it.

Well, time to stop that from happening.

Plant jumped down, falling at speeds that used to be able to kill him, and quickly grappled onto the crystal skull of the Rhino. His vines rapidly surrounded the reaching limbs of the Freak, arresting their movement and sticking them to its torso. The Freak growled at him as his vines lengthened to tie the legs together, and Plant opened his mouth to try and nibble at the arm beneath his head.

The first time he'd tried to eat a Rhino Freak, his teeth had shattered against it, the skin's strength being akin to concrete, but with his new teeth, the flesh sheared apart like the normals from earlier in the cycle. The Rhino, disappointing as usual, just grunted in annoyance as Plant ripped his arm off and swallowed it.

Strength.

He could understand what the other creatures meant now.

As he tore off the other arm to eat, he idly wondered what the crystals tasted like, and if rock candy was as delicious as his lord said it used to be.

Once the last arm was gone, and he began on the torso, the Rhino began to moan oddly, like one of the 'babby' creatures his lord tried to make every now and then. He finished with the rough torso, then leaned back to admire his work.

All that was left of the creaking Rhino now were the crystal legs, spine, and head. It was leaking from its eyes, and when he licked it, the fluid tasted salty with a hint of sweetness. He grinned, then tried to crunch on the crystal. He was dying to taste something similar to rock candy, but his teeth just glanced off of the surface.

Frustrating.

He removed his vines from the twitching body and backed up, attempting to think of a way to crush, or even break, enough to eat.

He listened around, and then felt some hand-shaped depressions in the bark on the tree he had climbed earlier.

The tree.

Maybe he could…

That would work, but only if he positioned the fall correctly.

He dragged the still moaning Rhino under the tree's soon-to-be destination, and then move to the other side.

Shoving the massive, dead plant wasn't easy, but after a few seconds of work, a 'CRACK' shattered the silent night.

The creaking mass fell down towards the Rhino, almost hitting the shuddering mass, when the tree split.

Bottom half crushing the Rhino, top half hitting…

Oh.

Oops?

He hadn't meant to dent the Lab, but, well…

Maybe he could negotiate a saboteur bonus from his lord?

The sound of the tree's collapse finished echoing around, and he quickly darted to the shattered remains of the Rhino Freak, desiring a taste before any freaks came to investigate.

Huh.

Rock candy was actually pretty good.

The pitter-patter sound of feet to his left turned his good mood to dust though, because only one thing runs fast enough to 'pitter-patter'.

He turned his head to the left for a better listen, then confirmed his fears.

He heard a drip, and the quickening sound of sprinting.

Explo Freaks.

There were a lot of them.

…

Time to run.

Plant may have started with a lead, but now, they were gaining on him.

He could always climb a tree and wait for rescue, but what kind of hunter was he if he couldn't escape some Explo Freaks alone?

Not a good one.

So he continued to run away from the nearing hoard of exploding freaks.

He wasn't fast enough to outrun them, he knew that, but maybe, with a little bit of thinking, he could lay a trap to stop them.

But he had nothing to use. A tree felled before them would take too much time, and one explosion would clear that away before it hindered the others. He could try dodging in one of the nearby houses, but the nearest one he knew of was half a mile ahead of him, too far a journey to survive.

He turned his head to listen to the hoard, but there were too many feet to properly count the amount of explosive force behind him.

He'd never heard this many this close together before.

And they were gaining on him.

Well, maybe he could accept some help after all.

He sent the panic code out, screeching in tempo to something his lord always hummed under his breath, and awaited a response.

Twenty seconds later, a response screeched though the sky, and Plant shuddered in relief. Two minutes away. All he has to do is survive two minutes, then the ranged forces would get here.

He just has to stay far enough away from the mass of fiery death behind him so he doesn't become a part of it, and then he'd be safe to return to hunting.

Then the unthinkable happened.

He _tripped._

He couldn't trip! That doesn't happen to plants! His vines should have stopped this from happening in the first place!

Then he noticed what was holding onto him.

It was a hand.

A _human_ hand, like his lord.

Except it felt smooth, and sounded… hollow-ish, missing the rough and hairy coating his lord has.

His center vine was being grasped by the hand sticking out of the ground, and he heard the gurgling of the Explo Freaks behind his increase in volume.

He turned to try and locate how far away they were, when his vines finished snapping the grasping hand at the elbow. He knew he was free, but he heard where they were now.

They were right behind him.

'Drip'

'Sizzle'

Plant dashed away, hoping to get away from the explosion, when he heard more gurgling.

Were they… laughing at him?

Was he so worthless, that even Freaks that killed themselves for fun didn't think he was worth exploding?

No, he wasn't worthless, he hunted Freaks for food! He served his lord well enough! He didn't eat his friends like the first Hunt the Freak Plant!

He just had to keep running, be faster than the Freaks behind him.

He had to run, maybe try and trap them. Keep them away somehow?

What could he do?

What should he do?

Run?

Hide?

Stop?

Die?

He won't die.

He can't die.

He'd run.

He'd hide.

He'd escape the Explo Freaks.

But not the silence.

The silence overtook him.

He lifted his head to a source of warmth in front of him and basked in it.

It reminded him of the UV Room, with its pleasant feeling of comfort and heat.

A peculiar sound was coming from his right, and it resembled the noise his lord made when Plant found him raking his fingers across his chest a few months ago.

The figure he heard making the sounds spoke to him then.

"It seems you're in quite the predicament, aren't you?"

Plant tried to respond, but his mouth wasn't cooperating. He hadn't spoken since he was born a year ago, as his lord didn't like hunters that spoke for some reason. He still knew how, but his tongue wasn't working as well as it should have been.

"Yeh… Yesh…Where am I? I cannot hear Freaks anymore."

"They still have freaks? I should have known those guys followed us… Anyway, you'll be back there shortly, just know that this is a safe place for you."

"Who… who are you?"

"A friend, Plant. A good friend. Now, you'll have something from the Rhino when you wake up, be sure to point it towards the Freaks when you wake, alright?"

"Shhh… Sure."

The warmth flared towards him, and he returned his attention to it.

He waited for a bit, but nothing seemed to happen other than some odd sounds coming from above. He then felt a hand on his head.

"Here, I'll get it."

Plant's head was tilted up, and silence overcame him again.

Another drip sounded behind him, and he clutched at what was now apparently in his vines. It was long and cylindrical, with one end open to the air. He found a switch on the bottom, and remembered the words spoken to him at the warmth.

'Point it towards the Freaks when you wake, alright?'

So he did, and pulled the switch.

Fire.

Oh lord the fire.

He was burning, everything was burning, but he couldn't hear the Freaks anymore.

Had he done it?

The screech of one more Explo Freak answered that question, and he turned another of his vines towards it.

Instinct seemed to call upon him to pull something inside, and he felt a vine leave him, headed towards the last Freak.

He could sense it approach the target and grapple only it, draining energy and wrapping around legs.

The vine stopped it?

He could hear and feel the Explo Freak straining against the… no, his vines, and grinned.

He could do things, new things, which could stop the explosions from happening again.

Plant snickered as the flames simmered down, leaving him crispy, but alive. He examined the tube in his vines which still appeared to work, and pointed it again at the lone Freak.

"Bye bye, boom boom."

Then he fired the rod of explosions at the Freak, and basked in the heat of the flame.

A fire.

That's what he'd seen.

He rather liked the feeling.


	14. Fragmentation y

Fragmentation 1.y

(Kevin Norton)

December 31, 1999

Kevin Norton was sitting at a bar, staring into the ceiling and wondering about the mysteries of the universe.

Life had thrown a wrench in his plans to mope about and die in a ditch, but it wasn't a bad one.

He'd met a man.

The most powerful man in the world probably, and Kevin had yelled at him while he was a depressed, blubbering mess.

But his words had done something. Instead of flying around the world and sightseeing, the golden man was now helping people.

All thanks to words he'd yelled while not in his right mind.

Him.

Kevin Norton, weakling and runner, always evading his past and fleeing from trouble.

He told the most powerful man in the world what to do, and he wasn't sure if it was a permanent ability or a one-time event. He wasn't even sure if the man would come back!

But then the golden man had stopped a few months ago to float around a bit then fly off, repeating this every time he came near London.

Eventually, Kevin got annoyed with the nudity, giving him a white bodysuit to cover himself with. Apparently the man liked it, as the suit was still there today, as pristine as the day Kevin first bought it.

Kevin looked back down at the crowd around him that was waiting for the year and the world to end, and started to smirk. Half of the people there were lightly sipping of whatever drink was in front of them, knuckles white with tension as the clock ticked down, while the other half were drunk out of their minds, some already ten drinks deep. But both were coping with the bundle of nerves that filled them all.

It was funny.

To him, at least.

How could they think computers could end the world if the golden man was helping now?

The clock hit 11:50, and a woman in the back corner of the bar was already counting down at the top of her lungs to the tune of some new single just released. He'd been a bit out of touch with music, as well as anything really, and didn't recognize it. The group around her were laughing and attempting to cover her mouth, but they appeared to be as drunk as the singer, and were falling all over each other, giggling.

Kevin was somewhat glad he only had enough money for a single drink.

He glanced around the bar again at the mass of people, one group nervous, the other drunk, and noticed something that didn't seem to fit with either crowd.

It was a woman at the bar, near the bartender, with the palest skin he'd ever seen. Almost white, but still some tint to it. She had grey, almost silver, hair down to her waist and dark brown eyes that seemed to peer into his soul. Her clothes reminded him of the businessmen down near Camden, pristine and recently pressed.

She looked like a woman who handled meetings like he handled a meal after a day without any.

And she was staring at _him._

Was he that noticeable? Did he smell?

Kevin checked his pits to be sure, but he had showered two days ago at the shelter. Usually it gets bad after four days, but it could have gotten worse with him being near the heater.

But no, she didn't appear to be crinkling her nose, or even looking at him with distaste. She was staring with an intensity that reminded him of the PTSD victims at the shelter, and he didn't know why.

He hoped she didn't find him attractive, somehow. He didn't ever enjoy disappointing anyone.

He discovered something else, while peeking looks back at her.

She didn't blink.

He almost thought she wasn't… no, her eyes still followed him when he moved left to right.

It was creepy, almost in the way that reminded him of…

"Excuse me."

She interrupted his train of thought, and he returned his focus on her again.

"I need to get something off my mind, and you look like someone who'll listen. Will you?"

It was odd, having someone ask him for something. He hadn't realized that he'd missed it.

"Sure, miss…"

"I go by Lucile."

"Ok miss…Lucile. What can I do for you?"

She paused at his question, and closed her eyes for the first time he'd noticed, opening them once her thoughts appeared to be in order.

"I went through a troubling event about fifteen years ago, and I want to get it out before I sit on it too long to matter. The world is supposed to end soon anyway, so it's as good a time as any." She paused, seemingly assuring herself that she could do it. "I was wondering if you'd be the person to let me talk for a few minutes."

"I'd be happy to ma'am. I know I've done that to a few before."

"Thank you, I think I'll start you at the beginning, just to get you in my headspace."

"I'll just sit here until you're finished, then."

"Thanks, let's see…" She stared up again and mumbled briefly. Kevin was about to ask her to speak up, when she began to talk.

"About fifteen years ago, maybe fourteen, actually, I didn't go by the name Lucile. I changed it to get away from someone, you see, so I'm not going to tell you my original name. I hope that's fine with you." I began to nod when she continued.

"Right, well… This person was close to me. Not emotionally, but physically, because we were assigned together as a team, meant for search and destroy missions, as well as some combat. We decided to take out this tiny little place in the middle of nowhere when a solo agent from the same, um, company? I can't really tell you, but you get the idea. Anyway, he came and decided to share some information with us, about the place we decided to remove. It was just some info about the language spoken there, but also some about their military forces. As weak as their weapons were, they could still be scary."

"Like, bows and spears? Or were they armed with guns?"

"Sort of." She shrugged "Can't really remember the specifics, but something like that. It was a bit intimidating, how threatening the agent made them out to be, but after he left, something came to us while were nearing the target."

"Something, or someone?"

"Yes." She nodded at him "It was some… people, who joined our team that were from a branch of the target. Not related to how it was at the moment, but they knew about it. They told us about some threats the target could pose if left unattended, so we decided to hurry our way there, letting them join us, and get started with our work."

"You and your partner?"

"Yes, him." She stared off into space again, her deep brown eyes misting over a bit.

"He wasn't the most… emotional… man. Hardly talking, ready to pick a fight, but he always, _always_ had my back. He was the muscle of our duo. When I finished the espionage and sabotage, he was ready to destroy everything after I finished."

"A demolitions expert? So you're…" She glared at him as he tried to speculate. "Right, don't talk about it."

"Yes. Don't. Back to my story, if I'm allowed to?" Kevin quickly nodded at the woman, trying to get that piercing glare off of him. "The thing was, I didn't think of him as a person, just a tool to help get the job done. I thought for sure he was stinted in the emotional factor, but then he proved me wrong."

"Something the people who joined us said, maybe something they did while interacting with each other, inspired him to talk to me one night. He'd never asked anything of me before, so of course I stopped our approach of the pl… target." Again, she stopped, face going grave as she remembered what happened.

"He told me he loved me. Or at least that he was convinced he did. Maybe because of some interaction between the locals, or some delusion that he made up in his head, but he was convinced that the looks I'd given him were reciprocation."

"Looks?"

"Yes, he was approached by one of the locals that had joined us, and even though he didn't respond, the local just talked, and talked, and talked in his own little language that I wasn't even sure my partner understood. Oddly enough, he was listening, but the topic wasn't something I particularly liked." The grimace that overcame her face was oddly similar to the look his ex had given him when he failed to hit her back. "The local was talking about his, uh, the target's various mating rituals. Sadly, my partner took what the local said to heart, and took the times I'd looked at him in concern as those of affection."

"So he was convinced you loved him?" Kevin was experienced in unrequited love, and didn't like to be reminded of it. But this woman needed _someone_ to listen to her tale, even if it disturbed him.

"Yes, and even when I told him it wasn't true, he tried his hardest to keep me nearby, tried to make me love him like he believed he did me. I'm still not even sure if he loved me, or was ever able to feel any emotions and believed what that local told him. But he was insistent that we were meant to be together for the rest of our lives, even after I told him my suspicions that the local that talked to him was trying to get him distracted, but he still didn't listen."

"Wait, distracted? Was the local a part of your target?"

"Yes, of the thirteen that joined us, only one really seemed to not like me, even though he faked it as well as he could. I think it was the way we looked that made him dislike us enough to try and distract us with his faux warmth and caring."

"Did he ever attack you?"

"That's the thing though, for all the animosity that he appeared to have towards us, he never tried to kill us, ever. Just… talked to my partner about his feelings towards me."

"So he was a distraction for the place you were visiting?"

"I'm not sure… but the target was… No, you're just trying to find out where I'm talking about, aren't you?" Kevin sheepishly shrugged his shoulders and grinned at her.

"Can't hurt to try? Can it?"

Lucile, though that wasn't her real name, swayed with the drink she was holding as she mused over his words.

"No, no I can't. It really was just some third world…" she faded off as she shut her eyes, tilting her head forward into her drink.

Kevin snapped his fingers in front of her face, and she snapped awake. "…country. Which country am I in again? Is this London?"

"Ah, lots of business trips?"

"Yes, something like that."

"So, what did you do about lover boy?"

"Ah, right. Well, to put it simply, I faked my death."

Kevin spat out his drink.

"Faked your death? To get away from your partner! Really?" Kevin's eyes went wide as she shrugged her shoulders at him.

"Well he wouldn't stop, and it was the only thing I could do, so near to the target, so yeah." She took a sip as he drunk in her words.

"How did you do it? How did you get back without him noticing?"

"I did mention that he wasn't very smart, right?" she asked while smirking at him. "To answer your question though, I made up a body of one of the locals look like me then smashed it up in a field. I even asked one of the locals to stick a knife in my neck to make it seen real, but she was a little gung ho pretending it was me, so I scrammed out of there."

"And he really couldn't tell it wasn't you?"

"Nope, I even saw him a few years back, and he still had the same frown on his face that I watched him make after he found my 'body'." She air quoted

"So this isn't just a random confession to a murder of anything, just a faked death to escape a crazed man that loved you?"

"Oh I've killed lots of people," she smiled sadly at him "I don't ever want to talk about those, even if the world's supposed to end." Kevin gulped

"What happened to the locals, by the way?"

"Oh them? The first twelve went back to the target after my partner abandoned them, but the one that talked to him about his feelings? No clue."

"Really? After all he'd done?"

"Yep, he up and vanished one night into the wind, no clue where he went, even with all the tools at my disposal."

"Wow. Well that's quite a story." Both fell silent at his words, one contemplating her past, the other wishing he had something to match it.

"Do you want to hear _my_ life story now?" Kevin asked Lucile, both returning their attention to the conversation.

"Sure, where do you want to start? I don't think we have much time before the countdown though."

"It's short enough, and nowhere near as exciting as yours, I bet." She grinned and nodded, leaning back to prepare herself. "I'll just start I guess…"

He was cut off by the drunk girl in the corner screaming "TWENTY!" at the top of her lungs, the rest of the crowd counting down with her.

"Maybe later!" Lucile yelled over to him at the increasing volume of the room.

He nodded at her, and turned around towards the TV that was counting down.

He murmured along with the mess of people around him.

"FIVE!"

"FOUR!"

"THREE!"

"TWO!"

"ONE!"

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

He was sure he was deaf, as the screams overtook his hearing, blasting out any other noise.

People were cheering and jumping around, happy for the fact that the year 2000 didn't appear to want to kill them all.

The news bar at the bottom of the screen was reporting the lack of disabled computers, and the people around him were rather happy at that fact, one man crying while calling someone, a wife or family, probably.

Kevin smiled with them, knowing that even if the event had happened they'd be fine.

For the golden man was there to help them now.

He turned back to Lucile to begin his story, when he noticed her gone, note on her stool.

'Dear man I never had the decency to ask the name of,

Terribly sorry that I didn't get to hear you story, but I had business to attend to tomorrow, today now, that was rather urgent. Then next time I stop by London, I'll be sure to say hi and hear your story, I must thank you for listening to mine. I needed to get it off my chest, and I'm sorry I didn't let you get that life story off yours. Have a happy new year, you delightful man, and I hope it treats you well.

Lucile

p.s. Nice job convincing Goldie to help people. He needed something to get his mind off the past.'

'How in the world…?' Kevin thought to himself as he glanced around the room trying to find her.

The intensity of the crowd around him didn't seem as bright anymore, but he felt something inside now.

Someone was grateful of what he'd done, even if she'd ran away after a single conversation.

Someone had known what he'd done for the world, and she thanked him.

The warmth inside him wasn't just from the heater now.

Maybe this year would get better after all?


	15. Orthosilicic 1

Orthosilicic 2.1

(Taylor Hebert)

March 4, 2011

Taylor had to admit, Brockton Bay was rather beautiful from above. Ignoring the square that made up the Merchant Wilds, of course. Even with that patch of dimness, the rest of the city looked almost healthy, rain pattering from above, cars streaming down between clean towers of glass and concrete, boats entering and leaving the harbor while Leviathan was in the Pacific, neighborhoods turning dark as sleep took its inhabitants. It was nice seeing the city without gang tags on every corner, which changed as often as the ABB and the Empire shifted territories.

Pulling her legs up from the side of the building she was sitting on the edge of, Taylor stood and stretched as she prepared for her first night helping her city in the best way she could.

Heroing.

She would've been ready to go a month and a half ago, ability-wise, but she wanted her costume to not be a scrounged up mess first. Taylor was glad she had waited, as instead of a green hoodie with a bandana around her neck and face, she had a proper costume, waterproof thankfully. It was a green pullover mask with yellow fins on the top and sides of her head, as well as a yellow mouth that zipped open if necessary. Her body suit was a dark green as well, armored thanks to her father's insistence, with plenty of pockets to hold her gear. She also had black bottomless boots and open, black gloves to finish the suit off.

The joy that went through her as she jumped off the building was almost as good as the second time Taylor had flown above the forest where she and her dad tested her powers.

And testing, they had done.

When she'd come back home from school on that fateful night, her dad had immediately hugged her after the initial interrogation, asking if she wanted him to do anything for her. Danny Hebert had known he'd been a bit detached ever since jobs had started to return, taking longer hours to make sure everyone in the Dockworker's Union had enough money to live off of, but he hadn't known it had gotten bad enough that she had… _that…_ happen to her. Taylor tried to shrug him off, about to shell herself in again, when her dad grabbed her by the shoulders and told her to explain from the beginning.

She couldn't stop talking for the next hour or so about Sophia, Madison, or Emma, only pausing to hold her father down from releasing his rage in Alan Barnes' direction. She told him that it wasn't that big of a deal, but her father had reminded her that he could have done something if she'd told him about it.

And it was true. With his success as the head of the Union, Danny could have easily pulled in a favor or two to transfer her to Arcadia, or even Immaculata if she wanted. Her pride had blinded her, and Taylor had wanted to handle it by herself. But now that her dad knew, he'd be able to transfer her.

She'd been so _stupid_ for not asking for help. None of this would have happened if she'd just… thought it through and focused.

After many phone calls to various people her dad knew directly and knew of, with Taylor nervously knocking her knees together on the couch, Danny had gotten her out of Winslow. Out of hell. With a few phone calls!

And then, with the subject of school and what happened there out of the way, came the topic of her powers.

Talks of staying out of the superheroing life were thrown away immediately with a determined face and her father's comment on its resemblance to her mother's, but the discussion of her safety brought her mind out of the clouds. Her dad didn't want to see her dead, no matter what, and made her promise she'd run if the fighting was too serious. She was just glad someone seemed to care, that is, until he discussed testing her powers.

A weeklong 'camping' trip to the woods was what they took together after Danny had gotten his workers to 'let' him take some time off (they'd sounded overly enthusiastic about him taking any vacation time at all), and it was filled with some of the most grueling and tedious experiments she'd ever taken a part of. She wasn't sure if the Protectorate or the Wards (If she'd ever join them. High school was enough teenage drama for her.) had worse testing than what her dad made her do, but she expected something similar.

Danny had described to Taylor exactly why they were finding all of the facts they could while in a secure location, and it made sense. It was far better to learn new things out in the open instead of in the middle of combat, but she didn't see how finding the pH value of the water she produced would matter. She still didn't know why dad had that old chemistry set in their basement next to the water heater, but _he_ thought it would be needed for their tests.

But seriously…

Her powers were weird.

The primary power, that had gotten her home from school almost instantly, at least from her point of view, was powered by spraying water out of her hands and feet at high velocities, 'rolling' her to whichever destination she pleased. If she focused, she could aim the jets of water where she wanted, and controlling the pressure of the water came instinctively. The lowest pressure being about the speed of the tap water coming out of the sink, with the highest being 'Oh god, I shouldn't have pointed this down. I'm souring through the air. Oh no I hit a bird.'

So yeah.

She could fly.

With a tiny bit of flailing at first, but she could fly.

Her dad had nearly tackled her when she finally landed safely, checking to make sure she was fine and cringing when he saw the feathers in her hair. It had looked like a raven, so it wasn't much of a loss, but her dad still fretted around her, warning her not to attempt the strongest torrent of water towards the ground again. Or anywhere really, as the hill she'd tried it on now had a crater in the top, full of water.

She'd dreamed of flying as a girl, like every other little girl who'd seen shows about Alexandria, but she hadn't ever expected to be able to. Her dad of course had panicked, as spraying water was the only way for her to get down safely, and when they returned home he bought her an emergency parachute.

"Just in case." He told her adamantly.

She was wearing it though, even if she didn't see the point.

Her other powers were the weird ones, though.

The ability that had given her those white and red boxes and healed her didn't occur at all, no matter how hard she tried, ruining her dad's hopes of her staying in the hospital and healing. He made the guess that she had to be hurt for them to show up, but he really didn't want to try and prove it.

Although the healing power was discarded for now, the one that had given her the wrench had done something new. After describing how she'd killed some bugs to get the orange boxes and the wrench to show up, her dad had given her the go ahead to spray the nearest anthill.

And then her power activated.

She must have killed hundreds, even thousands of ants. And with their deaths came the boxes.

As well as the weapons.

Shotguns, assault rifles, grenade launchers, wrenches, and more popped into existence as the ants died, leaving Taylor and her dad in shock as they stared at the still growing pile. Her dad held her back as he approached, only letting her come look when he checked their authenticity.

Neither of them recognized to models, (although that really didn't mean much) but they were real. She felt something in her seem to fill up as she inspected the weapons, but still didn't know exactly what it was, as her thoughts were interrupted by her dad immediately grabbing the shovel they brought and starting to dig

Explaining as the hole grew, Danny described how quickly the gangs would go after her if they knew she could create fully functional weapons from killing bugs, making her promise not to try and kill anything on purpose. She'd said she'd try her best, but they both knew that it would be a challenge if killing a _bug_ still counted.

After burying the mass of weapons and swearing to never try that anywhere near home, they tested her physical changes.

The gills she had gained were in fact fully functional, allowing her to stay in the lake she created for the full four hours they tested without difficulty. While underwater, she discovered that she could see perfectly fine, even in the murky depths, and determined that her powers had changed her eyes somehow as well. However, her dad hadn't noticed any visible changes to her eyes afterwards.

They spent to week trying out anything they thought of, from trying to store stuff where the water came from (which led to plenty of disappearing sticks), to learning to fly without demolishing the ground beneath her (not drenching it was out of the question), all the while growing closer than they had ever been since the jobs started pouring in after the boatyard was destroyed.

It was nice, having a week to relax with her dad.

Then, on the drive back home, they passed a music store, making them both remember what she'd said the night she'd come home with powers.

One guitar later, and they were back on the road, music streaming out of the windows as Taylor played what her heart seemed to want her to play since she got her powers.

The good mood was pleasant for a change.

Everything seemed to change for the better after she left Winslow for the last time.

It's been almost three months since the locker, and she couldn't be happier that she was gone.

She had friends now, Sarah and Lydia being her first and greatest while Tony, Chris, and, Jessica followed close behind. They were a mix of the music and book geeks, Sarah and Lydia were a part of the orchestra while the other three enjoyed music as a hobby, and they were the ones to first bring her out of her shell by asking about the guitar that she still brought everywhere except heroing.

Her grades were much improved as well, leaving the C to failing slump she was in while her tormentors ruined her work. Without the interruptions that her bullies brought, she caught up quickly and was now getting solid As, much to her dad's likings.

But even with the guitar as an excuse, she couldn't talk to her friends about her greatest hobby.

Her heroic hobby.

Which is why, on a Friday night, she was leaping from the top of the tallest building in Brockton Bay in the pouring rain, looking for trouble.

She was overjoyed when she heard that it would be raining on the weekend, as that was the only time that her father agreed let her fly in the open.

She smoothed out her altitude above most of the buildings and started following the roads in E88 territory, trying to find anyone sneaking in the alleys.

She noticed a bright light flying upwards in the north and immediately cut her water, diving towards the nearest rooftop. She stumbled a bit on the landing, but quickly darted behind an air conditioning unit, peeking out once she was completely blocked from view.

It was two figures, one in a golden bodysuit, the glowing one, holding another in a white robe, bridal style.

'Glory Girl and Panacea,' Taylor figured as she noticed the hospital the duo had taken off from.

She briefly contemplated going after them to say hi before rejecting that idea in favor of punching some Nazis.

The smarter choice, if she had any say about it.

She waited a few minutes for them to fly back to the ground, then stood up to prepare to jump back into the air.

Taking off was almost as good as jumping off a high building, but only while on the ground. On a building, her best bet was to start off slow then leave the edge, in order to not make any holes, but sometimes, on the buildings with concrete rooves…

She could _really_ take off.

Luckily, the tower she had hidden on had a concrete edge, good enough for her, and she blasted off into the rainy night sky.

Leaving behind a purple, crystalline man sighing in exasperation as he tried to catch up.

Again.

Taylor's eyes caught something of interest a few minutes later, spinning herself around to see what it was. Landing on a thrift store near her target, which happened to be two men talking adamantly beneath the awning, she snuck closer to try and eavesdrop.

"You promised me five grams you dick!" The shorter, pudgy-looking guy snarled at the gangly man with the backpack. "Not four grams and an order to quit slacking off!"

"Look Jerry, Hook's upset that you used some of your coke and took off what he thought you used. As for slacking off…"

"I didn't use a _gram._ I just had one line man! Look, can you just give me…"

"As for SLACKING OFF," The tall one angrily yelled into the shorter ones face as he shook his shoulders "Boss says you need to raise your quota. You spend far too much time napping instead of selling."

Taylor had heard enough.

She leaned above the two as they continued to argue about proper working hours and cocaine, and allowed her water to spray them in the chest.

Immediately knocked over, the two attempted to stand as she jumped down on top of the taller one, accidentally landing one foot on his face.

"Oops," She blurted out, crouching down to check his pulse, as the shorter man stumbled to his feet. "Umm… sorry? Not sorry, really, but…"

"What'd you do to Thomas you faggot!" The man was spitting at her in rage, not even recognizing that she was a she, _and_ that she was also currently wearing something special.

He rushed her, yelling and screaming incoherently as he tried to reach her kneeling form, but when she stood up and faced him, he tried to stop and gasped.

"Shit! Cape!" the man screaming out to no one as he turned and ran.

She water blasted him in the back and knelt down to the man she had _thankfully_ knocked out to tie him up.

After she finished zip tying him, she returned her attention to the man that tried to run, who was currently trying to crawl his way through a puddle.

She dashed over to him and kicked him in the chest, grabbing his arms and tying them together behind his back, causing him to jerk in pain and start yelling. Again.

Gags, she had to get gags for next time.

Fishing a phone out of the man's pockets, also finding the bag of coke they were talking about earlier, she called to cops and gave them the location of two drug dealers, suspected Empire goons, and denied being able to stay to talk to the police, simply stating that she went by Fish, then hanging up.

She still had work to do.

She was about to take off again when a 'pop' sounded on the thrift store roof above her.

It was a man, maybe a tall teenager, leaning forward and sighing in relief as he saw her.

"You need… to slow… the fuck… down…" gasped the figure as he 'popped' down in front of her.

She tensed, expecting the worst, when the man, teen, boy, whatever, held up his hands and stopped.

"Whoa, man, not looking for a fight. All I'm doing is looking for a quick talk, and them I'm outta your hair." The guy that also hadn't known she was a girl entered the streetlamp slowly, hands still raised. It was a teenager, as far as she could tell, with purple crystals covering his face and body, angular shapes forming eyebrows and lips. He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans, with everyday tennis shoes. Not much of a costume in her opinion (maybe he was a changer?).

"I'm not a man," She started off "But we can't talk here, the police will get here soon. Can your teleporting get up a building?"

"Oh, shit sorry. Yeah it can, but it takes some effort the further away it is. Can it be that one there? That's all I can make around here." He was pointing behind her at the skyscraper two blocks away.

"Sure, meet you there." She said, taking off towards the tower, leaving him behind.

"Cool see you there." She heard fade off as she flew.

What could he possibly want with her?


	16. Orthosilicic 2

Orthosilicic 2.2

(Terry Hess)

February 24, 2011

Terry was shelving DVDs in the back of the local Walmart when he got a phone call.

He wasn't supposed to answer it while he was working, but when he saw the number, he dashed inside, waved to his boss, and told him "Family problems," which got him a nod.

His boss wasn't a bad dude, having given him a job even though he hadn't had much work experience, and allowing him to keep it after he had gained a 'skin condition' during his time off.

After his little excursion to the farmhouse, he had to wear darker clothes and hoodies to stop the sunlight from glinting off his skin.

His new skin.

Having to hide himself in public _really_ pissed him off, as even though the largest crystals could be pulled inside his body, his skin still had a purplish sheen to it.

So as long as he wore a bright blue hoodie, and stuck out of sight of the customers unless necessary, he could keep his job stocking shelves from 7 to 4.

Which was currently being interrupted by his sister, who should be at school still.

"What's up this time Soph?"

"Mom won't answer her cell phone."

"It's happened before, she might have just forgotten to charge it…"

"No, I plugged it in for her last night when I came home. But that's not what I calling you for."

"Oh, and why's that?" He replied with a bite to his tone

He hadn't been happy to find out his sister hadn't been in a fight club at Arcadia, and was instead an ex-vigilante who was now a part of the Wards. Getting his arm bolted to the wall and being called an imposter wasn't nice either, but the pure disgust that showed up on Sophia's face after he explained to her that he was trying to protect her was…

Disturbing.

She'd then ripped the bolt from him, leaving him cringing on the floor as she stalked off, grabbed her backpack, and went through the window.

She was Shadow Stalker, the scariest Ward, who was rumored to have been forced to become one after leaving criminals pinned to walls.

Terry wouldn't have believed the reports if she hadn't done it to him.

And he hadn't seen her in person since that night.

"The E88 members in school are talking about how they're moving in near our house this afternoon, and I can't leave school."

"You want me to make sure mom's alright?"

"No, I want you to make sure Sasha's alright."

Their little sister. Huh.

At least she cares for _some_ of their little messed-up family.

"I get off in about an hour. I can't miss any more work, Soph."

"I know you have a mover power Terry, just use that."

"How did you…"

"You stopped using your car."

Terry fumed, pacing back and forth as he thought it over.

"You owe me if I lose my job, Soph."

"Fine, just make sure Sasha's alright." The click sounded the end of the call.

Terry leaned against the wall and looked up at the nearest building, sighing as he thought of the best route home.

The pop of his disappearance was the only sign that'd he'd been there at all.

As he appeared behind a tree in his backyard, he noticed something was wrong immediately.

The back door was gone.

Well, not gone, but inside the house, on the floor.

Terry shed his jacket and grew out his crystals, prepared to take on anything as he teleported inside.

It was a mess, but quiet.

There weren't any sounds coming from Sasha's room either… Wait…

A whimper.

He slammed open the door to her room and took in the sight.

His mother was lying on the ground with one arm and both legs clearly broken. Her face was bruised almost beyond recognition, eyes swelled over and teeth missing as she opened her mouth.

"N-no more… please…"

"Mom!" Terry rushed over to her to do… something!

"Terry? Is that… you, Terry? Are they… gone?" She seemed to sag in relief as he held her only unharmed hand.

"It's okay mom, I got you. Where's Sasha? Did the Empire take her?"

"No, they… didn't check under the dirty clothes… in my closet, they just…" She started to bawl, and he put a one of Sasha's toys under her head for support.

"I'm going to check on Sasha then call the cops, alright mom?"

"I'll just… lie… here…" She faded off, either passing out or falling asleep.

Terry dashed off to his mom's room to get his little sister, only to stop outside the doorframe.

There was a body on the bed.

It was his mom's… er… ex-boyfriend now. His throat was cut, along with his wrists, and he was missing his nails on his feet and hands. The words 'Race traitor' were carved into his chest, knife deep, and Terry was glad, for once, that he didn't need to eat anymore.

Terry opened the closet while holding his elbow over his nose, and dug up the dirty clothes pile, throwing a bag of some drug in the other corner.

She was thankfully breathing, but asleep.

He sighed in relief as he picked her up, cradling her in his arms as he retracted his crystals.

The threat was gone, for now, and he had to call the cops.

His mom was laying on the floor of Sasha's room in pain because of the color of her skin, and a man was dead because of her.

One of the _good_ boyfriends too, with an actual job and no addictions.

He had liked this boyfriend for once, and now he was dead.

Terry was going to have _words_ with the Empire.

Sasha woke with a start as he was typing in his phone, and burped in his face, crying after a few seconds of pause.

After he feed Sasha…

March 4, 2011

'The rain would have been much more annoying if I weren't made of crystal.' Terry thought to himself as he darted around on the tops of skyscrapers deep in Empire territory.

When he had first gotten his powers, he originally had planned to follow his sister around and stop her from getting into trouble, but that plan went down the toilet when he'd discovered her identity as a ruthless cape that was somehow working for the government. He'd contemplated joining the Protectorate for a bit before realizing that he might be watched a little too closely for his likings due to his sister's vigilante career.

Now, he was following her footsteps, albeit without the excessive violence.

After the incident with the Empire, he wasn't fired from his job at Walmart, but he was fired from his job as a security guard at a local club for showing up late after staying to talk to the cops.

Which meant he had to find another source of income, with him mom still in the hospital and Sasha staying at his neighbor's house during the day.

This lead to where he was now. Robbing E88 members of their wallets.

He didn't feel ready enough to take on any big leagues, but the small mooks he could take. If he wanted to take on anyone of significant power, like a cape, he needed someone to watch his back.

His thoughts were stopped by a green figure flying past his vision, far faster than he'd seen many other capes move before. The cape seemed to be spraying something out behind him, (water maybe?) and was peeking into alleys as he passed over them.

'Looking for trouble, hmm?' Terry mused as he teleported towards the building the cape was currently hovering over, several blocks over.

He'd stopped, much to Terry's relief, and had darted down to the roof he was hovering over a few seconds earlier. Terry briefly looked around to find out what spooked the cape, eventually spotting the glowing light of Glory Girl rising over North Bay Hospital, carrying a white figure, Panacea, in her arms.

'Scared of heroes? Or just trying to stay unnoticed?' Terry thought as he saw the green cape peek out over the air conditioning unit he was hiding behind.

Just as Terry arrived at the building the cape was hiding on, the cape took off, blasting away at a speed he'd have trouble keeping up with even with his teleportation power.

Terry sighed, and followed after the green figure who was fading into the distance.

'I really hope he'll help me out.'

Four minutes later, after a tiring dash across most of the Empire's territory, he finally caught up to the green colored cape, who was currently beating the shit out of some skinheads in an alley. He paused after the mooks quit moving, and stopped to bend over and checking the pulse of the downed racist, which thankfully meant that he wasn't a violent psychopath like his sister.

The green cape stood up and nodded after tying the two skinheads' hands together with something, probably zip ties, at the same time grabbing a phone from the downed drug dealer.

Terry waited until he finished his call with the cops to teleport to the roof of the thrift shop the cape was next to.

He startled as Terry 'popped' in above him, and Terry had to pause to catch his breath after the long distance trip from across two streets.

"You need… to slow… the fuck… down…" Terry spoke after gathering most of his breath.

The green cape, now resembling an odd fish as he looked closer, was wearing body armor and a dark green backpack, looking oddly professional for a new cape.

At least, he thought the cape was new. He hadn't heard of a fish cape before.

There was something familiar about him though, but he couldn't place it.

The cape held up his hands when he approached, but lowered them as Terry rose his in the classic 'I surrender' pose.

"Whoa, man, not looking for a fight. All I'm doing is looking for a quick talk, and them I'm outta your hair."

He could _feel_ the glare coming from her goggles.

"I'm not a man," _She_ started off "But we can't talk here, the police will get here soon. Can your teleporting get up a building?"

Terry cursed in his mind. Shesounded young, and very clearly pissed.

He remembered his sister sounding that pissed, and shivered in fear.

He did _not_ want to piss off a teenage girl.

"Oh, shit sorry. Yeah it can, but it takes some effort the further away it is. Can it be that one there? That's all I can make around here." He pointed to the building he had come from earlier.

"Sure, meet you there." She said, taking off towards the tower, leaving him behind covered in the spray of her water.

'I really hope this is water.' He thought as he replied "Cool see you there."

He doubted she could hear him.

"Real great first impression, Terry. Call a teenage girl a man. Great going."

He sighed again and popped up to the skyscraper.

She was waiting, holding her arms and very clearly tense, as if waiting for an attack.

"Uh, yeah, not looking for a fight, miss, just want to ask if you're a hero or villain before I continue."

She was mad again, he could see it in her stance.

"Of course I'm a hero! You saw me attacking Nazis!"

"Sheesh, sorry, didn't mean to offend. I've seen some villains attack other villains before though." He paused. "What's your name anyway? I can't just keep calling you green girl in my head."

He almost didn't hear her mumble her first response "Not green _man_?"

"I know, I sorry, you're just kinda…"

The glare was back.

"Erm, never mind."

"It's Fish."

"Fish? How is that not taken?"

She seemed to brighten up a bit as he left the topic of her gender behind him.

"I know right? I guess most people overlooked it because they thought someone else had it, but I checked, and no one has ever done anything _close_ to the name!" She responded excitedly.

"Right, I go by Crystal when I'm out raiding the Empire, and I…"

"Crystal? And you were shocked by _Fish_?"

"No clue, I was shocked to find out the closest thing to it was that girl Laserdream, in New Wave. It's her real name."

"Wow." She paused, as if realized something "So why did you want to talk to me here?" She seemed to be suspicious again.

"I needed to ask if you were a hero, because I saw you hide from Glory Girl, and now that I know, I need to ask a favor of you." At her stare, he continued "It's mutually beneficial, I assure you. I need help raiding an Empire drug house, because I can't do it alone."

She was tense, and asked "You were following me?"

"I was _trying_ to catch up, but you went way too fast for me. I was only able to talk to you because you stopped to make sure that drug dealer was fine."

She seemed to hear something in my voice "Why wouldn't I stop to make sure he was fine? I don't want to kill the guy!"

Terry laughed at her indignation "Of course not, and that's why I want your help."

He was _really_ happy she wasn't like his sister.

That reminded him…

"Hey, have you ever known anyone who you thought was nice, but ended up being a complete bitch?"

Fish's stare, and following giggles, were comforting.

Maybe this would work?


	17. Orthosilicic 3

Orthosilicic 2.3

(Taylor Hebert)

March 4, 2011

"Hey, have you ever known anyone who you thought was nice, but ended up being a complete bitch?"

Was he…

Was he serious?

Taylor began to giggle at his expectant face, watching it twitch into a confused smile as she bent forwards laughing.

It wasn't as if her ex-best friend betrayed her after years of friendship for someone new. Or that she turned all of the secrets shared between them against her. Or that she had gone out of her way to make Taylor's life miserable for all of high school, eventually leading to her being shut in a locker full of nasties harvested from her harpies.

No, the person she knew wasn't _just_ a bitch.

She was a monster.

Crystal, who was still shifting from foot to foot in front of her, was waiting for her to stop giggling. It had been a few minutes now. Maybe she should stop.

Nah.

It was still hilarious that he thought _he_ knew of bitches.

 _Alright, enough was enough_. Crystal was looking around uncomfortably, as Taylor tried to calm herself down.

"So I guess that's a yes?" The crystalline man asked in front of her.

"Yeah, that's a yes." She sighed as Crystal relaxed in front of her "I haven't laughed that hard in ages… Thanks for that."

"No problem. Can I ask you something else now?" At her nod, he continued "Great. So, I need help with getting some revenge on the Empire. They almost got my sister, and did hurt my mom, but I can't really hurt them without someone watching my back." Was he really expecting her to answer that after one conversation?

"Look, uh, Crystal. I'm sure you're a good guy and all, but we just met." She could see his disappointment from across the roof as she backed away. "I can't exactly trust that you didn't stage that drug deal to get on my good side."

"How could _I_ end up working with the Empire?" Why did he sound so confused? Didn't he realize that the majority of villain capes in Brockton were Nazis? "I'm black!"

Oh.

"Forgive me for not believing you, but you're looking exceedingly purple at the moment."

He held his hands out exasperatedly "Well _excuuse_ me, princess. It's not like my skin changed colors when I got my powers or anything.

Wait, he was a monster cape? Seemed like a flimsy excuse. "You're really pure crystal under all that armor?"

"Yeah, like that dude in Boston, except not metal. Look." As she watched, she saw the bulking mass of the purple shards retract into his chest, leaving behind a rather well toned body dripping in the rain…

She blushed.

"Umm," Taylor started as she turned away from the sculpted masterpiece in front of her "Don't you… have a shirt or something?"

From the corner of her eye she noticed him look down and shrug. "Nope. You should be thankful I'm wearing pants."

Taylor didn't think about _that_ at all. No sir. Not one moment.

"As you can see, I can't prove to you that I'm not working for the Empire, but I do need your help." He waited for her head to focus back onto his. "If you don't want to work with me that's fine, I'll just wait for some other cape. That's not a part of any gangs. Or any groups. Or exceedingly violent. Or…" Taylor sighed.

"Alright. I see your point. I'll help." Just as Crystal began to smile, Taylor help up a hand "However," she paused, waiting for his smile to slip, "You say that the Empire hurt your mom and sister, but if I see _any_ sign that this is a trap, I will leave as fast as I can aiming my powers at _you_."

He looked a little sheepish at that "That's fine. I wouldn't expect anything else. You want to go out tonight or meet up here tomorrow?"

"I think I'll have to do tomorrow, it's getting a little late for more patrolling." Taylor's watch rang out. _What a coincidence!_ "Make that early. I have to go, meet you here tomorrow at nine?"

"PM? Alright, that works. What time is it now, if you don't mind me asking?"

"One in the morning. Dad wants me home by two. You know how it is." Or… maybe he doesn't, with _that_ cringe. "I… I can stay out later, if you want me to?" Taylor asked hesitantly.

"Nah, you don't have to if your dad..." He paused "Wait, your dad knows you're out right now? Heroing?" He seemed shocked. Was it that weird?

"Of course! I told my dad right away." _Not that I had much of a choice._ "Doesn't your mom know you're going out to be a hero to help her get revenge?"

Crystal had frozen, staring off into the distance as a grimace grew on his face.

"My mom knows, but after… No. Not explaining that to you." He shook his head at her confusion. "I'm just gonna say my family life isn't the best." He stopped, turned to leave, and said "See you tomorrow, Fish." before popping away, leaving her confused in the pouring rain.

 _Was it something I said?_

March 5, 2011

Taylor was over at Lydia's house practicing the guitar when the phone rang on the counter, Sarah jumping up while yelling "I'll get it!" She and Lydia had been idly listening to Taylor play while they waited for Tony and Jessica to show, Chris having cancelled due to something coming up at his work.

They were supposed to be practicing for the talent show in May, which was a major event for the entire student body, the winners being awarded a meet and greet with the Wards. Chris and Jessica had been hesitant about the event at first, Chris explaining his worries about time commitment and Jessica with her stage fright, but both had changed their minds when they heard Lydia's excitement for potentially meeting the Wards. Taylor hadn't really cared that much about the event, and would have been perfectly happy cheering everyone on from the crowd, but the band her friends had formed needed a guitarist, and Taylor was the only one in the group that knew how to play. Sarah and Tony were going to lead the band as the vocalists, with Lydia and Jessica in the background playing drums and keyboards respectively. Chris was handling the technical aspect, which Taylor was helping with as well, linking up the varying instruments to strobe lights and LED screens. Chris was handy with electronics, but was hopeless with the actual programming of the things he stuck together.

Taylor was happy to see her proficiency in computer programming from Mrs. Knott's class had been useful after all, even if she hadn't really thought much of it during her incarceration at Winslow.

"Tony will be here with Jessica in two minutes guys!" Sarah yelled out over the sound of the guitar, causing Taylor to stop playing.

Lydia glanced over towards Sarah conspiratorially and asked "Think they know yet?"

"That we're making them hang out alone to try and get them to date? Nope. I don't think _they_ even know they like each other yet."

Taylor sighed at her friends antics. They'd been trying to get Jessica and Tony together since before Taylor joined the group, and even she'd been convinced to help them along with their schemes. It was a little annoying when she saw the same glances show up when she was helping Chris with the computer problems, but it was worth it for the commentary.

"I think they'll finally figure it out before the talent show. They're almost dating already!"

"You wanna bet on that, Sarah?"

"If they're not together before our performance, I'll… Hmmm…"

"Do my homework for a week?"

"Sure. Same deal for you?"

"Deal."

They shook hands and Taylor shook her head as she returned her focus to the sheet music in front of her.

"Hey Taylor…" the twin sing-songy voices came up from across the room, and Taylor looked up to see the two staring at her.

Uh oh.

"You have anyone you like?"

"Like, anyone we know?"

"Maybe starting with a 'C'."

Taylor rolled her eyes.

"I think I like a guy with a little more… muscle…" She faded off as she thought of the abs from last night.

 _I bet those abs could crush a car…Literally…_

"Beefcake?" "Beefcake."

She snapped out of her thoughts on Crystal as she noticed the duo in front of her smiling manically at each other.

Oh no.

"Hey Taylor, if we win this, do you think we can get you Aegis's number?"

"Don't you mean _when_ , Lydia?"

"Right of course, when we get you Aegis's number…"

Taylor held her head in her hands as her friends giggled at her.

A few months ago, this would have been different. She would have flinched at the teasing, expecting torturous words to rise from their lips as they betrayed years of comradery, but now that she was at Arcadia…

Wow. She _had_ mellowed out.

The doorbell saved her from further embarrassments, and Sarah skipped off to let her favorite not-yet couple inside as Lydia knowingly smirked at her red face.

"Hey you two what's...?" Tony walked into the room and stopped when he saw Taylor's face "Did you guys break Taylor again? This is the third time this week!"

"Don't worry Tony," Sarah popped up with Jessica beside her "We just found out she has a thing for beefcakes."

"Beefcakes, huh?" Jessica asked while glancing at Taylor "So Sarah and Lydia were wrong for trying to get you and Chris together?"

"Eh, I think there's still a chance of _that_ happening." Lydia spoke as she stared at my flushing face.

"C-can we just move on to playing music, please." Taylor finally stammered out while holding back laughter.

They all laughed together after that, and Taylor was glad to see that it wouldn't ever be _at_ her again.

It was night again, darkness finally taking over the sky as Taylor waved to her friends back in Lydia's house. They had spent a few hours working on their performance, Chris even showing up for an hour to hook up the lights that Taylor couldn't and mess around. But it was about eight now, and she had to check in with her dad before she left to meet up with Crystal to patrol in Empire territory.

Her friends teasing came back to her as she stepped into the truck that her dad was driving. Crystal had seemed a little old for her, but that doesn't mean she couldn't enjoy the eye candy.

"How was it?" Taylor's dad asked and they turned onto the road that left the neighborhood.

"Good, we're finally finishing up the first song, and we're going to try and tie it together with our original song next week."

"That's nice to hear. Still going out tonight?"

 _Here goes nothing._

"Uh, yeah. I, uh, actually met another hero that wanted help patrolling in Empire turf."

"Anyone I know?"

"Um, not really? He's not a part of a team, just trying to get revenge for them hurting his mom, I think."

"He, huh?" She could feel the smirk growing on his face from across the car "Do I have to have The Talk again about safety?" She could hear the capital letters.

"No," she deadpanned "No, you do not."

Her dad laughed and continued "Right, well if he does anything bad, be sure to let me know. I'm sure Keith's shotgun could use a few test rounds."

" _Dad_ ," She sighed out "There's no need for that. We're just going to be patrolling."

"I'm sure that's what all capes say before the romance kicks in.

" _DAD!"_

"Alright, Taylor, alright. Just be sure to remember the rules."

"Right, the rules." Taylor thought for a second before responding "Number one, don't die. No matter what. If it saves the country or the world, that's the only exception, but the city can suck a big one." Her dad nodded next to her as she continued. "Number two, go for incapacitation. If they can't move, you don't die. Rule three, if all else fails, running is a viable option, even if it reveals any secrets."

"You got it. And remember…"

"Yes dad, dying is for the unfortunate and the stupid, and I can't be either."

"That's my girl."

It wasn't raining that night, so Taylor had to fly up from the alley next to the skyscraper she had planned to meet Crystal on. Medhall, was it? Doesn't really matter. It was just outside Empire territory in the business district. Perfect for the meet.

Taylor was sitting on the A/C unit when she heard the familiar 'pop' from the night before.

It was Crystal, the young man was unmistakable with his purple sheen, but he was wearing a shirt this time.

 _Boo._

"Yo, Fish. You ready to go?"

"Absolutely, Crystal. Any change in plans? Ready to capture me for the Empire now?"

"I _told_ you I was black! Why do you keep thinking…?" he paused "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Right." He sighed "Anyway, there is a small change to plans" Taylor tensed, expecting to run "I stayed out a little later last night and found something."

"Something? What was it?"

"I believe… Keep in mind, I can't be sure of this, but I _believe_ that I found one of their drug houses."

Taylor paused, blinking at him under her mask.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I followed a dealer back to this house, and he left with a duffle bag of something, but I can't be sure until we check it out. So, are we still good to go?"

"Yeah, we are." Crystal sighed in relief at Taylor's words. "But…"

"But what? What's wrong?"

"I think it's _mighty_ suspicious that you _happen_ to find a drug house after a night of searching. You maybe-Nazi."

"I'm not a Nazi!"

"Lead the way, maybe-Nazi, to your drug house."

"It's not mine! And I said I'm not a Nazi… Oh, teasing. Right."

"Yes. Teasing. Let's go, Crystal."

Crystal sighed, and replied while lightly laughing "Ok Fish, let's go."

The two walked off towards the edge of the building and left, both with grins on their face, one under a mask, and one made of crystal.


	18. Orthosilicic 4

Orthosilicic 2.4

(Terry Hess)

March 5, 2011, early morning

Terry Hess was sitting in an alley after his uncomfortable meeting with Fish, waiting for someone to pick up his loot from the night. Having to pay for his mother's stay in the hospital _and_ for his sister's at her daycare was taxing on him. At the moment, looting muggers and dealers paid more than his job at Walmart, which was why he was willing to wait in the alley next to the hospital at two in the morning. After all, he couldn't really expect to visit a bank as he currently looked without seeming like he was trying to rob the place. But he was pleasantly surprised when he'd discovered that after he purchased powers, he received a free bank account as a bonus. A man that went by the name of Number Man phoned him to discuss his financial situation once he had returned home, and happily transferred his previous account's funds to one that was primarily online. Of course, that didn't help whenever he had cash on him, which was why Terry was currently waiting for someone to come and take it off his hands.

He spotted a flash from behind the dumpster and turned around, away from the entrance of the alley. Peeking around the dumpster, he saw a small door in the air, square in shape, with two expectant hands sticking out of it. He plopped his bag full of loot into them and waited as they immediately pulled back and vanished.

1… 2… 3… 4…

His bag was spat out a new hole directly at his chest, and Terry stumbled a little as he caught it. It was empty, of course, but it was still odd how it took exactly four seconds for the hands to empty his bag, no matter _where_ he put the money.

Terry slung his now empty bag over his shoulder while he checked his phone, making sure the payments to the hospital went through.

When they did, he sighed in relief. He hadn't expected any problems, but if he had been forced to enter the hospital and pay in cash…

Well, he didn't think they would like an unregistered parahuman on the premises, even if it _was_ shoving bundles of cash at them.

He left the alley, and looked up to the window behind which his mother lied, and popped behind it to find his mother's face, scrunched up it pain.

Just as it had been for the past few nights.

Just as it had been since she been knocked into a coma.

" _Doesn't your mom know you're going out to be a hero to help her get revenge?"_

He remembered Fish's words that had caused a part of the uncomfortable feeling inside him, and sighed.

 _No, Fish, she doesn't know._ Terry thought to himself as he brushed the hair out of his mother's face, causing the frown that was present to lessen. _But once she wakes up, I'll be sure to tell her._

The sulking, crystalline, figure that was Terry Hess sat before his mother in a hospital room, holding his head in his hands.

A hand on his shoulder shook him awake a few hours later, and he turned to find his sister standing next to him.

Sophia.

Well, Shadow Stalker now. She was in costume.

"You snuck in too?" Terry asked her

"I was allowed a few minutes to drop by during my patrol," Sophia answered "And here I find my brother taking a nap."

He snorted.

"What are you doing here Terry? You're the one that wanted to stay out of the PRT's sight, and if anyone but me came in here, you'd be found out."

Terry leaned back, taking in the sight of Sophia staring at their mother with a look of… _distaste_ on her face.

"If I told you that I had found the ones that did this to her, would you go after them, or would you let me take care of it?"

Sophia jerked her eyes away from the still form of their mother and growled. "You think I wouldn't do it? You think I'd let them be after what they did to mom? What they almost did to Sasha?"

Terry held her gaze and nodded. "Yes. I do." Before Sophia could punch him, as he could see she was itching to do, he spoke again. "After all, according to you, she was weak, right? So she deserved it. The Empire goon was stronger than her, and deserved to win? Isn't that what you believe, Sophia, that if they can't protect themselves, they deserve what's coming to them?"

Sophia was shaking. In anger, or in regret, Terry couldn't tell, but the _look_ she gave his leaned more towards the former.

"Mom was weak, yes. But that doesn't give that _EMPIRE FUCKER_ the right to attack _MY HOME._ " She was screaming in Terry's face, and both turned towards their mother, who twitched in her bed.

Barely a whisper, Terry's voice rose again. "And _that,_ is where you are wrong, little sister." She looked about ready to spit him in the face "If mom was so weak, why is Sasha still alive?"

Confusion flashed over her face as she thought over his words, "What? How are those things even related? They don't…"

"They are related, because of something I forgot to tell you when you spoke to me the night that mom was put in this room. The night you wouldn't let me tell you about what I'd found because you were too busy sneering at me and telling me that mom deserved it."

Terry thought it was satisfying to see his sister's face as it was. So empty, so… confused.

"Our mother was tortured by those fuckers until she wouldn't wake up. And the reason they did this to her wasn't because she was currently dating an ex-Empire member," he saw weariness replace her confusion "it was because they were looking for Sasha."

"What… Oh no…" He could see the blood leave her face, and almost smirked.

"They were looking for a 'four year old or something' to make an example out of 'nigger families' living in their new turf, and our _dear, weakling mother_ withstood _TORTURE_ to keep her hidden!" If it had been about any other topic, Terry would have _reveled_ in the reaction his sister had, but all he felt for her now was rage. "So forgive me if I don't believe in your fucked up world view, Sophia. Forgive me for believing that protecting others is more important than being strong. Forgive me for not agreeing with you about our mother deserving what happened to her because she wasn't strong enough. Forgive me for believing that protecting Sasha was more important that fighting back and dying."

"I didn't know… I don't… I can't…" Sophia was crouching on the floor now, holding her knees to her chest and breathing rapidly, murmuring faint nonsense to herself as Terry watched from above.

"When you are finally ready to admit that you're wrong, Sophia, call me. But until then, stay _the fuck_ out of Sasha and I's lives."

He turned and faced the risen sun out the window, signaling the early morning, and spoke one last time.

"You are no sister to me, Sophia. Not after this."

As the crystalline man headed towards home to wake his remaining little sister, the room he left filled with screams.

Night

Tucking his little sister in and reading her a story after another day at work was a soothing thing, especially before a night spent punching Nazis.

He was reading her the story of 'The Little Engine That Could', to spite Sophia, of course, because who didn't love a story that promoted trying as hard as you could, even in the face of defeat? Certainly not someone that believed in an extreme version of natural selection, no sir.

He stopped after he finished the story, listening to Sasha's breaths even out and slow, waiting a few more minutes in silence as he waited to make sure she wasn't faking it.

He sighed as he noticed that Sasha had untucked herself during the story, and brought up the covers again.

Terry stood and smiled at his little sister, and turned to leave for his meeting.

He had been lucky last nigh… er… this morning. He had found the man that his neighbors had described as the monster that had entered their house the day of the attack, and had been pleasantly surprised to see it lead him back to a safe house.

Well, he thought it was a safe house, but he couldn't be sure until he and Fish checked it out that night.

Fish was also the reason he was wearing a shirt now.

It really was uncomfortable not knowing whether or not the teenager under the mask was Sophia's age or just not very… shapely… but he didn't want to risk it. The stares from the night before had bordered on perverted, and he didn't want a repeat.

He'd rather not be seen as a pedophile, thank you very much.

He popped onto the roof and noticed Fish sitting on the A/C unit, swinging her legs. Her head tilted downwards towards his stomach, and he could almost _feel_ the pout form on her face.

Hah, take that, perverted teenagers!

Minutes later, Terry had an insight on Fish's sense of humor and another uncomfortable sense of being watched.

He was ahead of Fish, leading her towards the suspected safe house, and had a feeling that she was staring at him.

Terry looked back, only to see her looking up and away from him, avoiding his stare like it was the plague.

Weird.

"You see anything?"

"Nope. Nothing at all."

Terry shrugs and turns back around, popping to the final house across from the target.

The target was everything he expected from a normal suburban house, front porch, two garage doors, plenty of windows covered by planks and bars, and lights on the inside.

The only thing that could possibly be labeled as suspicious was the absurd amount of movement passing in front of the windows on the first floor.

"This it?" Terry heard from behind him

"Yeah, I followed someone back here and he left with a large bag of money, so I'm _assuming_ that this place is important for the Empire."

"You sure this place isn't ABB? We're should be near their border as well. And didn't you say you didn't know what was in his bag?"

Terry rubbed his head and grimaced. "Yeah, sorry, but I really need the cash. I can't split what I find, even if we might partner up every now and then."

"I'm not going to steal any money you find, especially if you need it. I'm a hero, remember? Or, well, trying to be." She paused. "But a bag of money is a much larger clue than a 'bag of something'." She shrugged at him, but kept going before he could respond "Anyway, you're sure they're not ABB?"

"Unless the ABB has started recruiting white people, then yes."

"Cool, so how do you want to go about doing this? Top window? Or sneak around out back?"

She was deferring to him? He hasn't had any experience raiding houses before, but it made sense that Fish wouldn't know that. Was it because he was older? "Err… I was just kinda going to go in and punch them until they're knocked out?" The gaze she was giving him had quickly made his belief in his plan fade into a question.

"That's your plan? What if you get shot? What if they call for backup capes? What if they have C4 stockpiled around the house, ready to detonate? What if they're just frat boys having a party? Do you think this through usually or jump in fist first?" The verbal stream of questions was halted by Terry knocking on himself, causing the soft 'ping' of crystal on crystal to chime out.

Fish rapped on her head a few times "Right, Brute. Most of those questions are irrelevant. How strong are you? How high of a caliber can you withstand before you get hurt?"

"Erm, most things I've been shot with have glanced off me, but one Empire dude shot me with this rifle that cracked my skin, but that repaired after a little bit of time. I don't know guns at all, so…" Terry paused as he waited for Fish to stop pacing on the roof.

"Right, stay away from anything high caliber and you'll be fine. Got it. Anything else?"

"Yeah, I haven't found anything that can hurt me in shield mode, even a car going about forty."

"Shield mode? I thought you teleported? You have a second power? Can I see it real quick?"

"If you would stop asking so many questions, I could answer them." He waited for Fish to nod, and continued "Shield mode is this:" Terry quickly focused on the shard of crystal within him that was the 'loudest' to him, and flicked the imaginary switch.

Immediately, a spire of purple crystal sprang up from around him, encompassing his body and immobilizing him. He watched Fish walk up to him and aim a finger at the bottom on the spire and spray some water. It glanced off with ease, even when she appeared to be strengthening the beam of water.

He tapped at Fish from inside the spire and waited for her to stop before turning it off.

"That is really strong." Fish was staring at him in awe, and Terry felt a little sheepish under her gaze.

"I know it's pretty cool, but it can't be _that_ good, right? I mean you were only spraying water at it."

"No, no, no, you don't get it. Have you heard of an industrial water jet cutter?" At his head shake, she continued "It's a tool that engineers use to cut all sort of things, but the strongest thing it's able to cut are _diamonds._ And I just doubled the pressure of _that."_ Terry stared at her, and hoped his armored face conveyed his shock well.

He was at least twice the strength of diamonds in shield mode? Shit, that was cool.

A noise from across the street interrupted their little stare-off, and they watched as a man with a shaved head being thrown out of the house.

The man stumbled a bit before he fell, and laughter poured out of the house behind him.

Another man walked out afterwards, and patted him on the back, loudly yelling back at the house about 'drinking while pokering'. The two then stumbled off as the man who was thrown out hung onto the arm of the other. Fish tapped Terry on the shoulder, and pointed at the house, which still had the front door open.

Terry held up a hand and counted to himself, waiting for someone, anyone, to shut the door, but nothing happened.

Did they forget? That seemed... a little _too_ convenient.

He leaned over to where Fish was watching him and whispered "It might be a trap. They could have seen me in shield form. You still in this?"

Fish looked away, back at the house, and he waited for her response.

He almost gave up hope of having a partner when she turned back towards him.

"I'm in. I think the best bet were to be if you teleported in and shielded, while I went through the back door. So while you take all the gunfire, I try and knock them out."

Terry blinked.

"You have a plan already?"

Fish shrugged at him. "Hey, I'm up for suggestions if you have any, but it looks like it's our best bet unless we want to try another night."

Terry nodded, and she faced the house once more.

"Besides, this place seems pretty fishy to me."

Terry stopped moving and stared at her.

"What? I thought it was good."

He sighed as Fish giggled beside him.

"Anyway," she stopped at his words "do you think the plan's good? I've never really done a house raid before."

"Er, I haven't either, but it sounds good!" He gave her a thumbs up. "Just give me a signal and I'll pop in."

He could barely hear her as she hopped off the roof and darted across the street. "I'll spray some water up!"

A minute passed with Terry twiddling his thumbs the entire time before he noticed a small blob of water burst upwards from behind the safe house.

'That's my cue.'

Terry quickly buffed out his crystal armor before popping inside the house, immediately using his shield power to stop any bullets that targeted him.

But none came.

Terry waited a few more seconds.

But still, nothing came.

Then, a crashing sound from the room to his left.

"Fish!" Terry almost screamed as he charged through the door, which splintered as he reached the other side.

Terry refocused on the scene in front of him, and found something hitting his chest that he never would have expected.

It was Fish.

The 'thump' of her impact sounded across the room, almost overshadowing the sound of another teenage girl screaming at them.

Terry looked up after checking to see if Fish was okay, and froze.

In front of him was someone he had hoped he wouldn't see tonight, because if anyone in the Empire would be able to interact with his shield mode, it would be Rune.

Rune, the telekinetic Nazi.

"I was winning that game you FUCKERS!" Rune screamed at them as Fish rose to her feet. "And you just knocked over the table, spraying water all over the fucking place!"

'She seems mad' Terry thought to himself as the table began to float behind her.

"If you wanted to win the pot you could have just played! I mean, I can't tell if fish girl over here is a nigger or chink, but your face looks white enough. Why didn't you join us?"

Fish was laughing beside him.

"I AM NOT A NAZI!" Terry bellowed out as his fist flew towards Runes face.

The table flew back at him and stopped his charge as Rune held her hands out.

"So we're doing this?" At Terry's angry face, she sighed "Fine, let's get this over with."

At her 'get over here' wave, he charged again, barely noticing the annoyed sounds of Fish behind him.

"Goddamn it Crystal, you don't charge at people. That never works."

But it was too late.

Because at that moment, he was flying through the ceiling, floorboards beneath him.


	19. Orthosilicic 5

Orthosilicic 2.4

(Taylor Hebert)

March 5, 2011, evening

Taylor watched Crystal burst through the ceiling with a faint sense of amusement. Sure, he was her new partner and she shouldn't laugh at his pain, but seeing his kicking feet hang out of the ceiling as the floorboards tried to push him up was hilarious. Taylor looked back down at Rune, who was smirking up at Crystal's feet from across the room, and tensed as she remembered _where_ exactly she was.

In the middle of a house owned by the Empire.

As Crystal squirmed above her, Taylor slowly began to leak water out from under her feet, popping the plastic seal keeping the soles of her shoes intact.

Rune looked down the second the plastic snapped, and frowned at her.

"Look, Fish… If that's your name. I think we got off on the wrong foot. Sure, you snuck into my uncle's house through the back door and blasted two of the people I was beating in poker through a wall, but can we just _not_ fight? Tonight's my night off."

Monologuing. Good. Dad had always told her that if someone spent time monologuing at her, use it wisely. Taylor tilted the soles of her feet backwards away from Rune the teenage Nazi, and proceeded to stall.

"Day off? I didn't realize that Nazis received vacation days."

Crystal was finally shunted all the way up, floor boards smashing flat against the ceiling, leaving muffled curses from the room above her.

"Everyone under eighteen gets Saturdays off. _And_ the pay is really good. You can still join us, if you want to. You know, after you pay for the table and walls."

"No thanks, I'm not racist."

"So? Doesn't mean you can't join." Rune paused as Taylor remained unmoved "You still want to fight, huh?"

At Taylor's nod, Rune sighed. "Guess I won't be spending the rest of my day relaxing after all." And with a flick of her wrist, the broken table flew. Taylor leaped backwards with a burst of water, dodging above the table while diving towards the open door behind her. The tumbling table lifted as she flew over it, nearly smacking her legs as she passed through the door frame. With a loud ' _smack_ ' the table crashed into the frame behind her, and she twisted to land on her feet, just beyond Rune's reach.

Taylor made sure to wave at Rune before darting to the stairs to check on Crystal.

A quiet "Really?" came up behind her, and Taylor snickered as she flew up the staircase. Glancing around at the top, she looked left and saw Crystal stumbling out of the bedroom he paid an unannounced visit to.

"You okay Crystal?"

"Not hurt, but I am annoyed." She sighed in relief "I forgot I could teleport for a bit there. Did you take her down already?"

Taylor almost answered before she watched Crystal peer over her shoulder and comment "Nope" before vanishing.

Taylor barely had time to fly into the room Crystal had left before an end table smashed into the end of the hallway.

"Stop running! I thought you wanted a fight!"

"I didn't want a fight, I want to take you in!"

"What's the difference?" Rune questioned from the hallway as Taylor slipped under the bed.

Priming her hands towards the entrance of the room, Taylor waited for a pair of feet to pass into view. It wasn't very comfortable hiding under the bed while covered in dust, but she wasn't there for comfort. White boots skidded into her sight, and Taylor let the primed water loose.

"Really? Under the be-AAAHH SHIT!" Rune screamed out as her feet blew out from under her, stopping her fall by grabbing the sheets on the bed.

A second's pause occurred as Rune stared Taylor in the eye, hanging inches above the ground, before a ' _thwack'_ sounded out. The bed, which had started to rise after Rune attempted to use her power on it, fell back down with a crash.

Taylor sighed as nothing hit her, and cringed a little at the sight in front of her.

It was Rune, lying on her side, holding her head, and yelling "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK", as Crystal stood above her with his hands held up.

"Sorry! Er, not really, you're a villain, but my hands shouldn't be that hard?" Why did that sound so much like a question?

"Crystal, your hands are made of _rock_. What did you expect?"

"Well I expected her to be unconscious, but she's still screaming in pain!"

"Where did you hit her? No, wait, here!" Taylor fished out the zip ties from her pockets "Use them, quick! We can't let her recover."

"Right, can you get the legs?" Crystal asked her as he held Rune's hands together. Rune was still shuddering in pain, but had thankfully stopped screaming. No one that young should have been screaming like that. It wasn't right, listening to a teenage girl scream that way, even if she _was_ a villain. And had probably killed people. Why was she upset again?

Taylor crawled out from under the bed awhile grabbing another zip tie, stopping once she had Runes legs tied together. Once Rune's limbs were bound, Taylor slipped her hands to Rune's neck and began checking for a pulse.

"She's alive, and I can't find any blood, but I'm not taking off the mask to check," There was a very large sigh from Crystal at her words, and the relief that flowed through Taylor was substantial as well.

Starting off her first cape fight with a murder would not go well when she called the PRT, even if she wasn't the one to do it.

Rune was still whimpering on the floor as Taylor stood, pulling out the prepaid phone she stole from the drug dealer the previous night and dialing the PRT.

"You're calling an ambulance, right?" Crystal asked "I like not being a murderer."

"PRT first. If they send an ambulance, they'll send an ambulance. They could just call for Panacea, but she'll be fine either way."

Crystal nodded in relief then turned to leave the room, "You call the PRT, I loot the house?"

Pausing her dialing, Taylor poised a questioning glance at Crystal. "Are you sure this house will have anything of worth? It doesn't look like a safe house or drug lab. All Rune said was that it was her uncle's house and all the only loot that would be here was poker winnings. And I may have… um, soaked those."

"I still need whatever's left, but you're probably right." He sighed and left the room "I'll take a look and see what I can find. Call if you need me."

As Crystal left her sight, Taylor hit the dial button on her phone.

Rune was finally quieting, something Taylor wasn't sure was good or bad, leaving the only sounds in the room to be harsh breathing and ringing.

The ringing cut off with a 'click', and a feminine voice spoke.

"PRT hotline, what is your emergency?"

"Hi, um, this is Fish, independent hero?" Why did she sound so unsure of herself? She was better than this! "I sent a letter with my registration last month if you need to find any of my information, but I, um, have Rune in my custody."

The pause that followed was only interrupted by the quickened breathing of Rune on the floor beneath her.

"Fish, let's see…" Some typing noises came over the phone "Suspected independent hero… Turned in two Empire drug dealers on the fourth of March… Can you confirm, you have Rune in custody? How do you have her contained? Where are you?"

Duh, she should have started with that. "I'm in an Empire house on Pine Street, 824, I think? It's the one with the open front door. But I have Rune zip tied upstairs in a bedroom. My partner should be tying up the gang members downstairs now, ma'am." She _had_ given him extra zip ties, right? Hopefully he was taking care of that right now.

"Please remember to keep Rune's hands from reaching any large objects, her power is _tactile_ telekinesis." She stopped, and Taylor took the time to spare a glance at Rune, who was reaching for the bed. Taylor coughed, and Rune looked up at her with a sheepish grin on her face.

"Couldn't hurt to try, right?"

"Don't make me take you outside. Keep your hands up, I don't want to hurt you any more than Crystal did."

Rune winced at the reminder.

"Miss, are you still there? We have a PRT squad and Protectorate member inbound, if you don't mind waiting."

"I'll be here, keeping Rune out of trouble."

"Do you have time to answer questions, miss? You mentioned a partner, but you registered as a solo hero? Is your partner a recent addition?"

Taylor did _not_ want to fill out more paper work, so she responded as truthfully as she thought Crystal would want.

"Right, I met him last week after turning in those dealers. We decided to raid the house we're in now, because he saw a guy leaving with a large bag of money, but we found Rune playing poker instead."

"Poker? Miss, did you see Rune without a mask on?"

"No, she had it on during the game. Neither of us know her identity."

"Good, that simplifies things. Now, did you, or did you not, know for a fact that the house was Empire-owned before you entered it?"

"Yes we knew. Two drunk goons left the house and made it a clear fact to us before we went inside." Taylor kicked Rune's reaching hands again.

"Thank you. Your… partner… does he wish to remain anonymous or does he want to be registered as well?"

"I haven't asked him, but he goes by the name 'Crystal', if you have anything on him already."

Another pause filled with typing, and the woman on the line spoke up again "Crystalline man, colored purple, suspected changer or Case-53? Does this sound like him, miss?"

"Yes ma'am."

"He has several reports of accidental violence against criminals he's turned in, is Rune in critical condition?"

 _That_ surprised Taylor. He'd hurt criminals before? Was it really an accident, or does he just not understand how strong he is? Is he really…?

"….still there? Miss?"

"Sorry, sorry. Rune may have a slight concussion, but she's awake and trying to escape."

The sigh was audible from the other side of the phone, and Taylor wasn't sure if it was exasperated or relieved. "Does she appear to be concussed? Is she showing signs of confusion, dizziness, nausea, or fatigue?"

"No ma'am, she seems fine mentally. You know, other than the rampant Nazism." They both laughed as Rune scowled from the floor.

A truck sounded from outside the house, and Taylor heard Crystal from downstairs "Fish! PRT's here. You have Rune?"

"The PRT squad is here now ma'am, thank you for sending them here so quickly."

"My pleasure, Fish, have a good night."

Lifting up Rune by her armpits, Taylor began to drag the pouting girl down the hallway, using a bit of her water to make the load lighter, and stopped at the top of the stairs.

"Don't do it, you bitch." Rune grumbled from under her.

"I'm not going to shove you down the stairs, Rune, even if you're a Nazi. But I don't want to drop you, so hold on."

"Hold on to whaAAAT!" Rune screeched as Taylor flew down the stairs, purposely hitting Rune's legs on the banister at the bottom.

She smirked at Rune's groans, but let herself grin wider at the sight of Crystal with two backpacks on.

"Find anything good?"

"At least two thousand dollars, but I didn't exactly have enough time to count. Over four hundred are a little soggy though." At Taylor's sheepish look, the crystalline man quickly corrected himself "Not that there's anything wrongs with that! You did good!"

"You mean well?"

"Well, you did good too, didn't you?"

"That she did…" a voice rang out from the front door.

It was woman wearing blue armor, yellow plates covering the chest and shoulders, with a large blue bag on the back, faintly pulsing with a dark-blue glow.

He mouth was uncovered, showing off her pearly white teeth and pristine dark skin. Her eyes were covered by an obsidian-like visor, which was adorned by a yellow circle in the center.

It was the Brockton Bay Protectorate's second newest member after Triumph. A Tinker with an unannounced specialty that used to be a part of the PRT before she was suspected of going rogue (Which was eventually discarded).

And she was standing in front of them.

"You both did good."

She seemed really suspicious.


	20. Orthosilicic 6

Orthosilicic 2.6

(Terry Hess)

March 5, 2011, evening

There was something… _off_... about this situation.

Terry was sitting in the trunk of a PRT vehicle next to Fish, who was swinging her legs out the back, both of them glancing anxiously over at Rogue, who was currently coating Rune's arms in a healthy layer of containment foam. He could see Rune's scowling mouth, and he grinned at the memories of the night, but let it slip when he turned his eyes back to Rogue.

Rogue was an enigma to him. She had hurried them along after finding them in the hallway, nabbing Rune and swinging the girl over her shoulder as soon as she had finished complementing them for them 'doing good'. When he first saw her, his thoughts immediately leapt to 'she's really hot', which was expected of course, because she really was. But something rose in his mind when he looked at Rogue's visor.

There was a niggling at the back of his mind whenever he looked at her, and he had thought it was just him until he noticed Fish tensing up whenever Rogue was in sight.

He wasn't the only one to sense it then?

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7…" Rogue counted as she stood up, stretching her arms over her head.

When she reached ten she radioed over some of the troopers that came with her, who pulled up Rune by her shoulders and dragged her over to their largest van.

The words on the side of the van read out 'Prison Transport', and Terry could see the legitimacy of those words by looking at the bars in the windows.

So the PRT troopers seemed legit to him, as well as their vehicles.

But Rogue…

Something was off when it came to Rogue. He'd be wondering about her all night if this kept up.

"Hey, Fish and Crystal right? Thanks for calling us in!" Rogue cheered at them, causing Terry to flinch in surprise and look away at Fish, who had done the former, but kept Rogue in sight.

"No problem. Rogue, right? Wasn't there an arrest warrant out for you?" There was? He didn't know that. He hadn't even been sure that Rogue was Protectorate until Fish told him a few minutes ago.

"There was, but those charges were discarded when the evidence piled in." Fish didn't look relieved at those words, but Rogue kept going "I was PRT before joining the Protectorate, but I got powers trying to take in a villain who used to live here. He got out during the drive to the Birdcage though, and we don't know where he is now." She was looking at both of them, slowly panning her visor from Fish to him, as if judging their reaction. Her shit-eating grin really didn't help with that observation.

Terry glanced back over to Fish, who was looking at him, and made eye contact beyond her goggles. A slight shake of the head gave him all of the information he needed.

He definitely wasn't the only one to notice something wrong.

Terry decided to speak up "And this villain still hasn't shown up anywhere? How do we know you didn't make him up to get us to trust you?"

Fish smacked her forehead.

"What? I thought that's what you meant?"

"You have to be more subtle than that…" Fish sighed out exasperatedly as Rogue watched with an air of amusement around her "You can't just ask someone if they're tricking you, you have to figure it out first."

"But surprise is the best way to make them give it away! If you rush people with questions, their story usually slips up."

"No, that just makes people mad at you because of the accusations! Then they can just lie out of spite! You have to ease yourself into getting answers. I mean, I knew _Rogue_ was Protectorate, but what if this was an imposter? Your question would only work if Rogue really was Rogue and could provide proof. If she was an imposter she could make up a story on the spot to get us to believe her."

"But then can't we just ask her for proof?"

"No, then she'd know we know something's up!"

"But if we know that she'd know that we know something's up, can't we use that to our advantage?"

"Well, maybe… but what it she knows that we know…"

"Eh-em." A light cough sounded from their side. "As much as I love recursive arguments, can I interrupt this?"

"You were there the whole time…" Fish whispered out "How could I be so dumb? Rule 13, Fish…, eyes on the surroundings." She was smacking her forehead again.

Terry glanced over at Rogue who was laughing at the younger girl's self-punishment. "I have to hand it to you, you're the first independent I've talked to who has had their rules numbered past ten. What's your highest? If you don't mind me asking. "

Fish stopped the slapping with a sigh, and looked back towards Rogue sheepishly "Umm, forty seven?"

"Forty seven!" Terry blurted out "Really? How do you have so many? I only have four!"

"I worked on it with my… uh… guardian."

Terry shook his head and glanced over at Rogue who was typing into her phone.

He tensed, preparing for the worst.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmm? Oh sorry! I kept it on!"

"Kept what on?"

A moment passed and the tension in the situation immediately faded away. Fish had her head cocked to the side and was peering at Rogue curiously as she held up the phone to her ear.

"Rogue checking in. Confirmed blue on both with exception of pink of course. _Reeaaaally_ shiny gold on Fish, with a tarnished silver on Crystal. Oh, and tell Assault he owes me twenty bucks, the record's up to forty seven now!"

Terry could feel the blush emanating from Fish.

"Any-who, got to go talk to the indie's now. Ta ta, em em!"

Rogue looked up at Fish and Terry with a grin and spoke up. "Sorry about that, you two, I'm the gatekeeper for the Protectorate in case the two of you have 'evil intentions'," The spooky voice was a nice touch "My secondary power takes care of that, but I have to pay attention to turn it off."

"I…" Fish was stammering. Whether in embarrassment or amusement, Terry couldn't tell "I-I, um. Stranger? Or was that a Master? I thought you were a Tinker? An-and what was that about Assault?"

"Oh, sorry. Assault and I have a bet about each new independent that actually signs up with the mail-in sheet. I bet twenty on you beating the record for most rules, so…"

At Fish's indignant stare she held up her hands "You can have a cut? I mean, if you want it."

"So, Stranger? Master? What's that?" Terry interrupted.

"Oh, you see…" "You don't know? Have you done any research?"

Rogue and Fish both paused and turned to look at each other.

"You can't know it all, kid. He could have just forgotten." Rogue turned back to Terry "Strangers are parahumans that alter the perception of themselves, like turning away attention or being real sneaky like."

"They're the best at directing attention elsewhere and avoiding notice. Masters are capes that can control other things."

"You know your stuff, kid. Most don't even bother. But she's right. Anyway, I can't give you the exact details on my powers because of 'security issues', but you should know that they help recognize the heroes from the villains."

"Can..?" Rogue put a hand up to Fish's mask and stopped the onslaught of oncoming questions. "Up, up, up. Pause." When Fish stepped back Rogue started again "We need to get Rune back to base first. I had to be sure if you could come with before we left though. Any questions you have can be asked on the way."

Rogue turned back towards one of the smaller van and waved her hand at them "Come on! Let's get going!" Terry looked over at Fish, who was looking over at him, and both shrugged.

Sure she was strange. But she was nice? _And_ hot. Terry couldn't forget hot.

Terry really was confused though. Was he supposed to look up things like Stanger beforehand? He hadn't ever really felt the need because of his goal to take in as many Empire thugs as possible, but something in Fish's confused voice spoke to him. Was it that odd that he didn't want to waste time looking up anyone other than the Empire capes? He didn't think so.

As Rogue shut the door behind them and sat across from him and next to Fish on the van's bench, Terry sighed.

After that tense little situation, it was nice to finally be able to sit down and relax. They were finally home free.

Unbeknownst to him, Fish shivered from across the van.

Terry leaned back against the wall of the rumbling vehicle and put his hands behind his head.

Maybe he'd finally get some sleep tonight after all?

* * *

Rogue's Ratings (i.e. I made it up, I make the names!)

State of emergency

Blue - Heroes are present, good intentions, no emergency.

Purple – Heroes in presence of non-reactions, backup up to task leader's discretion.

Red – No heroes here! No good intentions, or no emotions. (See 3) (see Armsmaster(1,2,3,4) (Armsmaster's note: I prefer to call myself a logical person))

Special

Pink – If I fail to mention the color pink, it either means I'm mastered or I forgot (oops).

State of heroics

a. State of rules

i. Gold – Lots of rules, and has been proven to follow them.

ii. Silver – Some rules, may follow them, may not.

iii. Bronze – No stated rules that they follow.

b. State of obeying rules (Assault's note: A little long, don't you think?)

Shiny – Either really devotional to their rules or new enough not to have broken them.

Plain – Can't prove whether or not rules are followed. Observe.

Tarnished – May have broken rules in past, whether it be by ignorance or mistake.

Rusted - Clearly has ignored rules (still having good intentions at this point is questionable, but Ms. P. still wants this rating here)

State of non-reactions

Rust – Definite Evil (should have run away by now)

Steel – possible sociopath

Platinum – Held against will, but not good

Titanium – Logical being (Fine, I put it in now. Are you happy, Armsmaster?)

If you have any additions, don't hesitate to tell me!

With tolerance,

Rogue


	21. Orthosilicic 7

Orthosilicic 2.7

(Taylor Hebert)

March 5, 2011, evening

Taylor had a really bad feeling. There was a sort of anticipation in the air that didn't dissipate, even as Crystal seemed to fall asleep across from her. Rogue, who was sitting next to her, was currently nodding along and frowning to something coming over her headset, leaving Taylor silent in the back of the bouncing van. How anyone could sleep in a car, especially while transporting a prisoner, was beyond her, but Crystal had seemed a little out of it earlier so she guessed it was possible. The problem was his sigh of relief from earlier. It didn't make sense. Didn't he know that they weren't in the clear until Rune was behind bars? The majority of villain escapes happened during prisoner transport! They could be attacked at any second by Stormtiger, or Hookwolf, or even Kaiser himself!

At least Rogue seemed ready for anything, hand on her weird curvy gun and constantly alternating her vision towards the driver and the back door. Her face was growing tenser and tenser as she watched, and a sudden "Right then!" startled Taylor out of her thoughts.

"W-what? What's going on? Are we being attacked?"

"No, you have nothing to worry about. Dauntless and Velocity are taking care of…" Rogue froze. "Er, attack? There's no attack happening at all. Heh heh…" Rogue scratched her face and looked back towards the door.

"You just said…"

"Right, nothing to worry about. We're taking care of it."

"So there _is_ someone after Rune!"

"No! I mean…" She sighed "Look kid, I know you want to help, but we have no idea of your powers or skills. All we have on you are a cape name, a confirmed affiliation, and a vague power description. All you'd be doing is get in the way."

"But I…"

"Not to mention your partner seems to have been injured without telling us. What he get hit in the head by?"

"He's not unconscious, he's just asleep."

Rogue looked back over at Crystal and leaned forward a bit. "Really? My scans aren't picking anything… Oh, that's it! He's a changer right? They always mess up V2…"

Rogue was taking off a small box on the side of her helmet and fiddling with it, leaving Taylor to scrounge up an answer.

"I think so. I've seen two different forms so far, but I haven't seen him without crystals."

"Case-53, maybe? Has he mentioned any family members?"

"Yeah he's mentioned his family before, said they were hurt or something. And Case-53? The lady on the phone said something about Crystal being one too."

"Case-53s are capes with physical mutations, usually full body. Almost all are missing their memories, and have a marking on their body." She pulled up a symbol on her phone "Do you know if he has any tattoos on him, like this?"

It was an omega sign, etched deep inside a piece of gleaming metal in the shape of an arm.

"I've never seen him naked ma'am, so I couldn't tell you."

Rogue leaned over, grinning conspiratorially at her "Wanna ask him when he wakes up?"

Taylor wasn't sure if her blush could be seen through her mask or not, but it sure felt like it by the electronic eyebrows waggling on Rogue's visor.

"N-n-no! I just met him! A-and how are you doing that? The eyebrows?"

"Assault asked me to put them in, said they'd be useful. I guess I see what he meant." She waggled them again.

Fish barely had any time to put her head in her hands before Rogue began laughing.

"Just teasing you kid. But you can't ignore _those_ muscles."

No, she couldn't.

A jolt interrupted Rogue giggling and startled Crystal awake "What, I'm up Sasha, don't… Oh, we still driving?"

"Yeah, Fish here was just…"

"I wasn't doing anything! Nothing! Nope!"

Crystal wasn't talking, but he was staring intently at Rogue.

Taylor turned to find out what was happening to see Rogue's hand up to her ear again, and an even larger frown than earlier.

"Welp, it seems you're getting to see some action anyway."

"What happened?" "More? Really?"

Taylor was excited, but cautious. It seemed Crystal was more reluctant than anything. He needed that nap, apparently. Were they ready? Who were they facing?

"Dauntless and Velocity are currently taking on Hookwolf and Cricket, but they saw Stormtiger and Victor headed this way. They suspect Othala's in the area as well, but there are no confirmed sightings yet."

"They're coming for Rune?"

"Well, I know I'd be upset if someone captured _my_ teammates. As of now, the prison transport with Rune in it is the main target for them, but our van with Corporal Smith and the one with Sargent Green in it are easily considered 'collateral damage', so we have to get out and switch Rune out."

"What do you mean by 'collateral damage'?" Taylor asked hesitantly.

"Weeellllll, it means they don't care if we explode, just that Rune's vehicle is stopped. Soooo…"

The van pulled to a stop, and Rogue shoved open the doors, leaping out.

"Last one out is a rotten egg!"

Taylor glanced at Crystal, who was looking at her, and both sighed. Crystal then positioned his face towards a nearby building and vanished, leaving her behind.

"Oh thanks partner. Leave me behind to rot, why don't you." Taylor mumbled to herself as she hopped out of the van, just in time to see Rogue looking around next to a PRT agent.

"Where'd Crystal go?"

Taylor shrugged "No clue. Reconnaissance? We haven't really worked out a system yet."

"Great, we need everyone here to defend the transfer, and our Brute is gone." She paused "He is a Brute, right? He doesn't shatter, or anything?"

"He's a Brute, stronger than a diamond as far as I can tell. Besides, he can just teleport back if we need him."

"Right, teleport." Rogue turned away to help some PRT troopers move Rune to one of the identical vans parked next to the prison transport. After Rune was handcuffed in one of the cars, she froze and quickly turned back towards Taylor.

"Teleport? What?"

"Yeah, Crystal can jump to his line of sight I think. Why? I thought you knew about that?"

"It wasn't in his file, all we had on him was Changer and Brute. Not a fu-freaking Mover too."

"You can curse, I'm in high school."

"Oh, good." Rogue tilted her head down for a second then back up. "Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing. Can you call back Crystal or something? We need to get going"

"I'm afraid your friend is being held up at the moment." A voice rose from the alley.

A man wearing baggy pants and a striped shirt walked out, head held low as the sound of his footsteps thumped out. All movement seemed to freeze as his words echoed out, but it was rapidly kick started by the sound of Rogue's voice.

"Go! Get to HQ! Now!" Rogue screamed out to the three drivers as she slowly stepped in from on Taylor, almost as if…

Taylor held out her hand and stopped Rogue from blocking her vision. "I can protect myself. We should work together for now."

The sound of squealing tires blocked out her response, but Rogue's insisting hand and idea of 'protecting' her was getting annoying. Slowly rapping onto the ceramic body vest she wore, Taylor stopped all further arguments.

"You're going to fight anyway, aren't you?" Rogue asked with a sigh.

At her nod, another sigh rose. "Fine, fine. Just be sure not to get hit by my shots. Even your vest can't stop my EG"

Taylor didn't have time to ask what the hell an 'EG' was before a soft clapping rose from the man Taylor was secretly hoping would go away.

The man was looking up now, but any expression he may have worn was obstructed by a mask made to resemble the face of a snarling tiger, pale white with jagged black stripes.

"I am as pleased to see the techno-nigger defending children as the next, but I must agree with the girl." He paused until Rogues mouth twisted in anger and grinned "Both of you will be fighting tonight."

A twist of his hand left Rogue yelling a warning while darting to the right, leaving Taylor standing in the path of a spiraling whirlwind of air.

"Fish, get out of there!" Taylor heard over the roaring wind, and hastily agreed, rolling down the block, around the corner, and behind the newly revealed Stormtiger in a few seconds.

Rogue's indignant yell sounded out, and even the Nazi was stunned at the intensity "She's a fucking Mover too? Seriously?"

Taylor returned her attention towards her antagonizer and lifted her hands to blast him in the back, but her chance was gone. Before her agonizingly slow water could reach him, her foe leapt forwards towards Rogue, who was holding an oddly shaped rifle up at him.

"Well if the child is smart enough to flee, what does that make you?"

"A professional." Sparks flew towards Stormtiger, but a twirl of his fingers blew them to the side, leaving the humanoid tiger flying towards an annoyed hero, who happened to be leaning a bit towards the left.

A small explosion burst out of something on Rogue's back and she jumped away, leaving a slightly singed tiger-man behind.

"Go help your friend kid, I got this punk."

Taylor was too stunned to act, but jerkily nodded at the smirking hero suddenly standing in front of her.

A light shove and a pointing finger finally caused her to look upwards towards the increasing sounds of rage coming from the roof.

Taylor opened her gloves with a small blast of water, and nodded again, flying upwards and leaving behind a newly soaked Rogue that was turning back to face laughing Stormtiger.

"I know you've never see a woman this wet before, but that's nothing to laugh at."

Taylor giggled a bit, but barely heard anything else as the sight of the roof battle came into view.

Crystal was popping all over the gravely roof, never staying in one place for long as a man wearing a red shirt under a black breastplate glared angrily around the roof next to an peeved looking woman in a red bodysuit.

Victor and Othala.

Taylor was rather annoyed by the amount of trouble they were in.

"Stay still for one second you insolent crystal!" Victor yelled while throwing bursts of fire at wherever Crystal showed up.

Othala, with her hands on Victor's shoulders, was looking at Taylor, who had plopped her feet down near the edge of the roof.

"Victor, we have another one, can you stop toying with the crystal boy and actually use _your_ power for once?"

"Dear, you know how I enjoy a good fight. If my opponent won't even stand still, where can I get my fun?"

"How about fish-boy over here, he looks like a decent challenge"

"I'm a girl, you fucker!"

Victor paused for a second then bowed at her, almost mockingly "I am truly sorry. How about you join us and we can discuss this in private."

"She's not a Nazi either, just so you know!" Crystal said while running at Victor, fists raised.

Taylor was too busy having a stare off against Othala to really pay attention to what happened next, but the result was Crystal being knocked back by an annoyed looking Victor.

Othala glanced back towards Victor, leaving Taylor the victor. Hah! She can _too_ make a joke!

"You really aren't getting this, are you?" Victor sighed while returning his hands to their original position "You can't hurt me right now. You keep trying, but you keep failing. If you turn back now and tell us which vehicle Rune is in, we can be on our way."

Othala was looking back at her now, so Taylor couldn't do anything too obvious, but it was clear that her attention was mostly focused on her crystalline partner.

"And I keep telling you, I don't know which car she's in! The last I saw her, she was leaving the…"

"Crystal!" Taylor yelled out to interrupt him.

She really didn't want to give the Nazi's any more hints at Rune's current location.

"Don't give away anything. Even if it seems unimportant, it could be useful to them."

She saw Crystal shake his head "Right, sorry. Wasn't thinking straight."

"As much as I love talks between teammates during a fight, we are supposed to be fighting." Othala spoke up "Let's get this over with, right Victor?"

"Right dear." Victor sighed dramatically into Othala's shoulder. His wife? Girlfriend? They seemed close. "Sorry to cut this short kiddies, but my dear's getting impatient. Let's make this quick." The tone shifted for something much darker than before "Shall we?"

Invincible villain, not using his powers apparently, attacking with fire while his wife? Girlfriend? Whatever, held onto his shoulders. If she could just figure out what Victor could do…

"We got this, right Fish?"

Of course he'd jinx it.

He needs to concentrate, and he fucking jinxes it.

Wonderful.


	22. Orthosilicic 8

Orthosilicic 2.8

(Terry Hess)

March 5, 2011, evening

The tension was thick on the rooftop, steadily rising as the faint sounds of gunfire and smashing rose from the street. Fish was wincing whenever the sound of metal came up, but never removed her eyes from the two standing in front of them. Terry desperately wanted to pull away and watch Rogue going at it with whoever had shown up (maybe Hookwolf?), but his maybe-not-so-temporary partner was paying attention, so he should as well.

She _was_ the one with forty-something rules, or whatever. He'd have to ask her about them when they got out of this mess.

And it would be when, not if. Terry was confident about that.

Even if Victor was invincible, Terry's blows glancing off of him with little resistance, there would have to be a way to take him down.

The problem here wasn't Victor though, it was Othala. Othala was the mystery, at least to him. Fish might have figured out what her powers were, but all PHO had told his was that she was the healer of the Empire, the one who took care of the wounded.

Terry would have done anything for some ideas, but if the cocked back hand that Victor was currently aiming towards Fish was any indication, the time for thinking was over.

Popping right in front of the now flaming fist, Terry quickly shielded, taking the force of the blow without a twitch. Victor pulled back his fist, and he half expected for the villain to shake his hand in pain, but was disappointed. He looked back and watched Fish nod at him in thanks, then jet herself towards Othala, who had tapped Victor twice on the shoulder before running towards the fire escape.

Victor stopping flaming him to intercept Fish, somehow _flying_ in front of her at a speed Terry thought was reserved for capes with moving powers. He stopped after glancing behind him at Othala's position, then turned and held his hands up at the flying fish coming at him.

Which wasn't really a good move on his part, but then again, he'd never fought Fish before. Victor seemed a little surprised to have gallons of water crashing into his arms instead of a teenager girl, but he saved face by somehow not flying off the building.

"Get Othala! I'll play keep away!" Fish yelled at him as she rolled out of the way out of a blast of fire, hastily spraying the flames as they caught on the boards nailed across the window on the skyscraper across from the one they were fighting on. Terry sighed with relief that they wouldn't be paying for property damage, and noticed a noise coming from where Othala had disappeared.

The sound of quickened thumping came from the fire escape, and Terry turned and teleported to the top, peering down at the flashes of red that glinted off of the villain's costume.

Terry scowled at the mishmash of metal below him. He couldn't teleport down this! Any of the holes could easily lead to the street, and he couldn't take any chances. Line of sight wasn't very useful with fences and grates, as he's come to learn. The last time he'd made that mistake had caused him to get shot in the back of the head by a surprised drug dealer.

So Terry did the simplest thing (maybe not the smartest, though) and jumped off the roof.

He barely had time to notice the shocked face of Othala as he fell past her, but the quiet "Fucking Brutes" was worth the shock of the landing.

Terry couldn't get used to the fact that he never _really_ felt pain anymore. Sure, now he couldn't tell if he ever actually got hurt, and his arms and legs got stuck in walls and floor sometimes, but he rather liked the benefits.

Leaning down to push himself out of the concrete, Terry hastily looked up to see what Othala was doing, only to find out she was gone.

No, not gone. Just climbing back up.

Terry sighed and popped back to the top, just in time to intercept a backwards flying Victor that was coming to pick up Othala.

Intercept meaning being picked up and carried away while Victor looked back at a dumbfounded Fish.

"Dear, did you pick up something while running from…?" The stare Terry received was amusing, to say the least. However, all fairytale moments must end, and the bridal carry finished with the dropping of the fair maiden.

He looked up while falling at Victor, who was turning back towards Othala, and waiting to pick up more speed before teleporting back, grabbing onto the recently moved arms. The two of them were quickly yanked downwards for a moment, before a straining grunt from Victor sounded the cease of descent.

"Get off me, child. I don't have time for this."

"That's the problem." Terry grinned up cheekily at the villain "I do."

He looked up the concrete skyscraper across from the one blasts of water were flying off the top of and looked at the ridge of the roof. If he could aim this correctly, he could get a lot a speed before grabbing Victor again. He vanished, leaving behind a perplexed Victor that spun his head around before flying back towards Othala, who was dancing rapidly around Fish's sprays of water.

Crystal pulled himself up just enough to pop himself to his feet, then looked down at the scene far beneath him.

Victor was still halfway down the alley, quickly rising, Othala was soaking wet, dripping from head to toe, and Fish was trying to corral her into the center of the roof, as far from any alleys as possible.

He was glad she realized that Victor was trying to get to Othala. That kept a lot of trouble out of his hands.

Terry nodded jerkily to himself before leaping off the roof, trying to aim himself towards the quickly rising form of Victor. Maybe he wouldn't have to teleport on top of him… nope way off. He corrected himself by teleporting four feet over and a few windows down onto the shoulders of Victor, who had just crested the edge of the roof.

Terry wish he could have seen the exasperated look on Victor's face, but alas, it was currently smashing into the side of the building.

A blur of bricks and dust flooded towards Terry's eyes and he instinctually held up his hands, eventually lowering them to look down at the villain who was half sticking out of the newly crafted pile of rubble. Based on the kicking, Victor wasn't hurt, let alone knocked out, but he couldn't seem to be able to get out.

Pulling out two of Fish's zip ties, Terry roughly grabbed the villain's legs and bound them together as tightly as possible. The pile of fallen bricks and debris was shifting upwards, and Terry guessed the villain was trying to fly out. So he decided to trust in his partner to get here quickly and did the smart thing by sitting himself on top of the pile.

Multiple muffled curses came out from underneath him, causing Terry to smile. Another Nazi, ready to be put in prison. Once the rubble stopped trying to rise, he sighed in relief.

His relief didn't last after he realized something, and he quickly leapt to the other side of the pile to uncover Victor's head. Even if he _was_ a Nazi, he didn't want the guy to die here. He should die of old age in a prison cell. Maybe while everyone laughs at him, or something. Terry proceeded to scoop out bricks, plaster, and bits of wood until the coughing face of Victor appeared.

"You *cough* Dick." Victor was hacking up something in the back of his throat, eventually pausing to spit out a wad of dust. "Are you incompetent? Or actually trying to kill me?"

"Eh, it's my second cape fight. My first was with Rune, so I guess you can call it inexperience."

"No wonder you have nothing useful for me to take."

"What?"

"Nothing. Are you just going to stand there, or are you actually going to do something useful. Help your partner, maybe? What if Othala gets the upper hand? You don't even appear to know what either of us can do."

"I know that Fish doesn't need my help. And that I would do more good making sure you stay put."

Victor sighed, then looked up to glare at him as he climbed back up the pile of rubble. "You don't need to do that, I'm stuck."

"Never know. You were flinging fire earlier, but that stopped."

The two then sat in silence, contemplating the wonders of the universe, the history of mankind, or maybe just what they had for lunch. That's what Terry was doing anyway (Turkey burger with bacon and cheddar cheese. Mmm). He didn't really understand how his new body worked, but it did _something_ to the food he ate. He didn't poop anymore. Or pee. Or even sleep, apparently. But he still had urges to do those things sometimes.

It had been a disturbing realization when he discovered it'd been a couple days since he'd been to the bathroom. That rush had caused him to break the doorknob off, and it was a pain to replace before anyone noticed.

"Nothing!" Terry heard from beneath him "How can you have nothing! Everyone has at least one thing new!"

"What _are_ you talking about?"

"I'm not explaining my powers to the vigilante who is keeping me contained."

"Are you one of those people who can't stand a silent room or something? All you have to do is wait until Rogue or Fish are done, then I can get you out."

"…" The silence was welcome. Maybe now Terry could think about food in peace…

"Crystal, what are you…? Are you sitting on him?" Terry heard Fish ask from the hole in the celling.

"Hey Fish. I am. He kept trying to fly away, so…"

"You sat on him? Isn't he taking your skills away?"

"No! I can't! He has nothing!" Victor yelled in outrage from underneath.

"He steals skills? Oh, so that's what he was trying to…" Terry paused before realizing what Victor's words meant. "Hey, I do _too_ have skills! I can juggle, I can babysit, I can even stock stores real well!"

"…I'm not talking to you anymore. Just take me in."

Terry silently fumed at the frowning face under him, then looked back up towards Fish who had the faint air of _amusement_ around her.

"What?"

"Nothing. Are his hands tied yet, or just his feet? I have Othala tied up waiting for the PRT's backup. Rogue's fight ended a while ago, said Stormtiger ran off, or something. She's just waiting on the street for you to report in."

"Is she okay? Are either of you hurt?" Terry didn't want anyone but him hurt. If he learned anything from the video games his friends used to talk about, it was that tanks, or Brute in his case, were supposed to take hits.

"Nah no trouble for me, thanks for asking. Rogue took a hit to the shoulder though. She said he was fine, but I could see the… the blood." Fish seemed to collapse in on herself after those words, crouching down and hugging her knees. Terry waited a moment before softly asking a question.

"Never seen blood before?"

"Not on a friend… Uh, I mean…" She seemed flustered at her assumption "She's uh, cool?" she squeaked out the last few words.

Terry laughed a bit before responding, but her hands were covering her face now. At least she wasn't in shock now.

"Nah, I get it. Seems like the cool older sister, huh?"

Fish looked away "Yeah. Never had one, but she remind me of… Never mind."

"If you two are _done_ with the chatter, can you take me to prison now?" Victor seemed a little annoyed. But he was interrupting maybe-team bonding! How could he!

Fish didn't seem to understand Terry's reluctance to stop talking though, and dug through a large pocket on her left leg for something.

"Hmm. Hey Crystal, you still have zip ties?"

"Yeah, a few, why?"

"Oh, good." Fish sighed and stood back up. "I was going to toss you some more, because I think his range in two meters, but I think I'll stay up here and let you take care of it."

Terry tried to raise an eyebrow, but failed. He never could understand how people do that. But he got what Fish was trying to tell him, so he dug up Victor's arms and began to put them together. He stopped though, when the sound of Rogue's voice came out of the alley.

"Hey, you two still up there?"

"Yeah, tying Victor up now!" Crystal responded.

"Is he still awake?"

"Yeah? Why?"

"Knock him out, he can't steal skills if he's unconscious!"

Victor sighed and commented "Of course they remember that." Before Terry launched his fist and the top of his head, producing a solid *thwack* and an unconscious Nazi.

"Got him!"

"Good, bring him down! We already have grumpy miss grumpy puss in the back!"

Fish hopped down and dragged Victor the rest of the way out of the debris before leaping off the side, leaving behind a very confused crystalline man holding a zip tie in his hands.

"Sure, tie his hands together, Crystal, I need to stay out of range." Terry sighed before leaping after her, wondering to himself if this was going to become a common occurrence to his nights.

Checking his phone after he landed, he groaned.

Make that a common occurrence to his mornings.

He probably didn't need to sleep anyway, if his dietary habits had anything to say about that.

…

Where did all that food go, anyway?


	23. Orthosilicic 9

A/N: Sorry about the lack of update last Sunday. I hope this one makes up for it.

Orthosilicic 2.9

(Taylor Hebert)

March 6, 2011, early morning

Taylor, for once, was extremely grateful for the weight lifting exercises her father put her through. Not that she had to do it alone, he was right there beside her with almost double the weight. Her revelation about her powers had spurred something in her father, and whenever she saw the glint that appeared that night in his eyes, she shuddered. For those eyes signaled the coming of dark times. Said dark times being full of stretching, stairs, ellipticals, treadmills, and worse. At first she could hardly keep up with her father, who wasn't doing too well himself having had a desk job for most of his life, but eventually the both of them grew stronger. Over the last two months (It'd been two months already? Time really does fly…) both Taylor and Danny had lost their guts and gained a fair amount of muscle, nothing overtly crazy, but enough for Danny to grow uncomfortable in using the treadmill in the front of the room. No longer did they struggle with running out of breath. Taylor had to admit, if she hadn't been training, she doubted she could have lugged Victor all the way out of the alley. Let alone down and across the street to the waiting PRT van.

This was also ignoring the training she did outside of the gym, with her powers.

Returning her thoughts to the matters at hand, Taylor focused again on the unconscious form of Victor that she was dragging around. She wasn't sure why she had decided on carrying him and not, say, Crystal, who was already proven to having nothing that Victor could (or would) take. Was she trying to show off? Rogue and Crystal already knew she could fight well, so was it just trying to get more credit for something?

No.

She wouldn't let anything like her apparent instinctual arrogance take control over her. Rule 23, Taylor, you learned this.

Turning to call back to Crystal, who was pulling his legs out of the hole he made in the concrete, she stopped and stared.

"Can't you just teleport out?"

Crystal froze, then looked up at her.

"Oh."

A quick teleport left him shaking his head and sighing.

"Should have figured that out a lot sooner than today…"

"Hey, everyone misses the little things sometimes. Speaking of: here." Taylor shoved the still unconscious Victor back into this hands. "I forgot that you're immune-ish to his powers."

"Er, ok?"

With Victor now off her hands, Taylor twisted back towards where Rogue was standing, only to find her gone.

"Crystal, did you see where Rogue went? She was right there."

"She was running to the left-"

"Towards the van!"

"I guess…" Taylor didn't hear the rest. Rogue was running to the van, so there must be trouble with the transport!

Stopping at the edge of the alley, she peeked out, checking her corners before charging in, just like she learned at the paintball arena with her dad. Last time she'd made that mistake was their second outing to Paintball Central, which cost her an orange chest and a bruised ego.

Now reassured, Taylor darted out of the alley towards where she saw Rogue pacing at the end of the street, next to where the van with Othala used to be parked.

Oh no.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck, FUCK." Rogue was frantically typing into her phone, pacing around in a circle while periodically looking around.

"What happened?!" Taylor yelled before noticing the bleeding man with a large shard of metal sticking out of his back. "Is he okay?"

"He's still alive, but we need Panacea, ASAP. Hookwolf came and got him before taking the van and Othala." Rogue stopped pacing to spare her a glance before holding up a finger.

"Console this is Rogue, we have a man down, and an escaped Othala. Hookwolf just escaped down Red Blossom Avenue towards Oak Street in our van. Stevens is bleeding out and we need either Clockblocker or Panacea _now_!"

Rogue's pacing resumed, and there wasn't anything Taylor could do to help. She knew first aid, but that taught her nothing on how to handle metal spikes through the chest.

Crystal tapped her on the shoulder, causing her to jump and squeak slightly. "What do we do?"

"I don't know." She calmed down, ashamed of herself. It was just Crystal. Remember Taylor, you're at Arcadia now, not Winslow. No more bullies… Glancing back at the PRT soldier (Stevens?) she noticed he had stopped twitching. "I didn't expect this to happen."

"Well no shit. I never thought the Empire would just straight out murder a PRT dude, but I guess I was wrong"

"Yeah, you're wrong, but not for the reason you're probably thinking." Taylor and Crystal looked up at Rogue, who was taking the downed soldier's pulse. "Panacea was just getting off shift at a hospital nearby, so she'll be here just in time." Taylor relaxed instantly. "Another van is coming for Victor with backup, and Rune's made it to lockup, so we should be good for the night as long as they don't come back."

"Morning." Crystal spoke up.

"What? Ah shit, you're right. You kiddos head on home, it's getting late. I'm supposed to be bringing you to debriefing, but you can come in tomorrow if you have to."

Taylor glanced at Crystal who was looking at his phone. "How long do debriefings usually take? I have to be home by two."

"An hour, at most. There were three fights that happened, so the minimum will be thirty minutes. Are both of you coming in?" There was a pause "Crystal?"

"Hmm? Yeah, I'll come." He wasn't looking at them, and seemed to barely be paying attention to them at all, furiously typing into his phone while swearing to himself.

At Rogue's nod, Taylor walked up and put a hand on Crystal's shoulder. "What's up? You don't have to go if you don't want to. "

"No, It's not the debrief…" He looked up from his phone at her face. "Can you keep a secret?" She almost giggled at him trying to appear serious while searching to make eye contact. She twisted a knob behind one of her mask's gills and flipped up the glass lenses on her mask. Soft brown met crystalline purples, and with a smile that crinkled her eyes she nodded. "Of course you can, we're partners now aren't we?" At his shocked look she fidgeted. "Well, I mean. We worked well together tonight. And, well, you took a fireball for me, so I thought…"

Was she wrong? This is the first friend she might have made on her own ever since…

Emma.

Was she doing this right? Sarah and Lydia had been the ones to make the first move at Arcadia, and she hadn't had much experience making friends even before Winslow…

But her thoughts were interrupted by Crystal's smile. "Yeah, I guess we do work well together. We took out three different capes in one night. How's that for day one of team…" He had a puzzled look on his face.

"Team..?"

"How the fuck do fish and crystals go together? Maybe rockfish? Hmm."

Had he forgotten his question? Later, Taylor. Think team names for a fish and a crystal… Maybe water and crystal? Snowflake or Ice? No, they didn't have any cold powers, wouldn't work.

Maybe a chemistry joke? That was one of the classes she was doing well in at Arcadia thanks to her dad forcing her to learn everything she could about her powers and what was in her water.

Taylor took out her phone while Crystal was muttering to himself potential team names, eventually finding the information she needed.

"How about orthosilicic acid?"

"What? How does that relate to fish or crystals?"

"Orthosilicic acid is the acid that forms when silicon, the primary component of most crystals, is heated and dissolved in water."

"A little long, don't you think? Maybe just Ortho? Orthosil?"

The two of them pondered their choices before eventually agreeing to hesitantly name their team Orthosil.

Finally having that matter finished, they shook hands, much to the watching Rogue's amusement.

"Now, you had a question, right?"

"I… No, I just…" Crystal glanced away and sighed. "My… sister was nearby and saw the fighting."

"Is she hurt?"

"No, she's mad that…"

"Heads up kiddos, we got incoming."

Looking around, both Crystal and Taylor failed to notice anything, before Rogue groaned at them. "Sorry, that expression annoys me. I meant it literally."

Now that they had their heads facing the right direction, they saw it. A faint glowing figure was headed in their direction. It took a second to place the recognition she felt before the realization came. It was Glory Girl and Panacea, and both looked exhausted.

"Where is he?" Panacea didn't hesitate to ask once they landed, before quickly spotting the man and rushing over.

Glory Girl was yawning into her hand and waved at Rogue. "Sorry it took so long, I fell asleep waiting for Amy to come down to the lobby."

A faint "He's going to be fine." Came up from where Panacea was holding the man's hand, and Rogue instantly relaxed.

"It's no problem now, but we need to get Victor into lockup soon before he wakes up."

Glory Girl nodded at her grimly before finally turning to look at the newly formed partnership.

"Oh, hey. You guys new? I don't think we've met before." And it was true, they hadn't. Taylor almost commented that she saw her every day at lunch and had to stop herself.

"Name's Crystal."

"Fish. Nice to meet you. We're team Orthosil, recently formed."

"Chemistry joke, huh?" Taylor nodded, and Glory Girl continued "How recent, if you don't mind me asking? I've never heard of you before."

Taylor watched Crystal glance at his phone before responding "As of today?" Glory Girl nodded "Two minutes."

Glory Girl's gob smacked face was amusing, to say the least, but she composed herself before too long.

"Well, that's… huh. So you guys are Independents? How'd you meet?"

Taylor took her turn to speak up. "Last night he tracking me down during my first patrol in Empire territory and asked me to form a temporary partnership. The next day, Crystal here found what he thought was a drug house, which we raided to find Rune inside playing poker. We were taking her in when Victor and Othala showed up. I took out Othala and Crystal got Victor, but not before Hookwolf freed Othala and left Mr. Stevens here. And here we are."

Crystal nodded along with her and spoke "We decided that working in pairs seemed to help, so we're trying out a more permanent team of sorts."

"Hmm, well good luck. Maybe you can patrol with me sometimes, I always like bashing a few shaved heads."

The newly formed duo spared a glance before simultaneously shrugging. "We'll see."

"Eh, all I can ask for."

"Kiddos, we're going back to HQ. Give Panacea Victor's hand to keep him under and we'll be on our way. Thanks again Panacea, and Glory Girl. We would have lost Stevens here without you."

Panacea barely nodded, swaying on her feet, almost about to fall asleep before Glory Girl flew over to her and picked her up. "Dammit Amy, you should have told me you were this tired." Panacea curled up into her arms and immediately relaxed. "Amy? You there?"

"She's asleep, Glory Girl. Go on and take her home, Victor can make it." Rogue faintly whispered at the softly smiling teenager.

"Thanks, Ash… Rogue. Thanks Rogue. Nice meeting you two. Message me on PHO if you want to patrol together. Bye!" She flew off with Panacea mumbling in her arms and a small grin on her face.

Rogue muttered out "Poor kid…" before facing them "Alright you two, van for Victor's on its merry little way, and we'll be off shortly. You guys still fine with coming in?"

"Of course." "Should be fine."

"Right then." Rogue nodded "I'm going to go take care of Stevens until the van shows up. Be ready to go in a few."

"We'll be here."

"Thanks."

She turned and jogged towards the slowly rising PRT agent, and Taylor glanced over at Crystal to see him staring. A quick shoulder bump caused him to look up ashamed, and Taylor knew her guess was right.

"Bad, Crystal. No staring at the nice Protectorate Hero." Taylor told him with a wagging finger.

He stared at it with a face full of confusion before letting out a snort.

"Alright Fish, I won't stare. On purpose."

"That's the best I'm going to get, isn't it."

"Hey, I'm a guy! It's in our genes to stare at attractive women!"

"Oh it's something in your jeans alright."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean!"

"Nothing, Crystal Nothing at all."


	24. Nuclear Throne Christmas Special (Canon)

Nuclear Worm Christmas Special

December 25th, 2010

(Taylor Hebert)

"Dad. Pssst! Dad wake up."

The sound of snores drowned out her whispered words, but Taylor was determined.

It was Christmas, and nobody could ruin _this_ for her. She'd glimpsed the tree before coming to wake up her dad, and there were far more presents under it now than there were the previous night. She hadn't believed in Santa for years now, but her father still woke up as she slept to put more presents under the tree. Maybe it was just tradition, something to remind him of times passed.

But Taylor let those thoughts fade in favor of waking her father.

Last Christmas she waited until seven o'clock, but now she had waited a little longer before waking him. He shouldn't complain much, she gave him an extra thirty minutes!

Taylor slipped inside the room dressed in her Operation Wakeup Dad on Christmas clothes (oversized Santa outfit stuffed with pillows and a large droopy red hat on her head) and slowly climbed up onto the edge of the bed.

"Wakey wakey Dad! It's Christmas!" Taylor almost screamed as she jumped next to her now moaning father, who had grabbed a pillow and was covering his head.

"Noooo… go 'way. Sleep time…"

"Nope, it's morning. You have to get up now!"

"Mmmrrrgle."

He wasn't moving anymore. Try to ignore _her,_ will he? Operation Wakeup Two is a go.

Jumping down from the bed to where she stashed the CD player the previous day, Taylor quickly dug out the holiday album under the pile of clothes and popped it in.

Track 8, her father's least favorite holiday song, was about to be played.

" _Feliz Navidad…"_

"Nrrrooooooo…" Her father cried out from underneath the tightly gripped pillow.

" _Feliz Navidad…"_

Sitting up while rapidly blinking, her father glared at her. "Fine! Mmup. I'm up, Taylor. Please turn it off!"

"Are you really? Or will you go back to sleep once I turn it off?"

Tossing to covers off and shuffling to his feet, Daniel Hebert complained in his mind, but kept a smile on his face. Seeing his daughter's laughter after being so diminished lately was keeping him from getting truly angry, but it was still far too early to be waking up on a weekend.

Taylor watched her father crack his back, the sign of his true awakening, then quickly shut the song off. As much as the song was useful, she agreed with him that it wasn't good.

"Going to brush my teeth, see you at the top of the stairs dad!"

"Alright, kiddo, see you there." Her dad replied, still grumbling a little.

It was the little things of Christmas that made it all the things it was. Being woken by your child far too early to contain any semblance of sanity was one.

Seeing their face after surprising them with a gift they couldn't have seen coming was another.

But the best of all was the oncoming feeling of anticipation for the coming year.

Both Taylor and her father felt it in them, something flickering in the distance.

A sign of good things to come.

A sign of a new year.

A sign of change.

(Terry Hess)

"Thanks bro. It's just what I wanted." The sarcasm dripped from his sister's voice as she looked at the clothing he had spent a week saving up money for, and Terry Hess scowled at her.

"Well if you don't like it just say so. I have the receipt if you don't like it."

She nodded, but moved on to another present from her pile as Terry and Sasha sat around her, Sasha staring wide-eyed between her two sibling's faces.

"Sis not like present?" the pouting three year old asked her older sister. For a second, Terry watched his sister's face soften, as she replied "No Sasha, because boys shouldn't buy girls clothes, just gift cards for clothing stores." Her face hardened after Sasha nodded and looked at him, pointing "No mo' clotheses shopping for you, bruther!"

Sasha's 'serious' face was on right now, and it took everything in him not to laugh "Alright Sasha, no more clothes shopping from me." At her super serious nod, they both returned their sights to Sophia, who was staring incredulously at the 'Sasha's' gift to her.

"Is this… Military grade pepper spray?"

Sasha was grinning like at crazy person, and giggled at her still stunned sister.

"Bruther says you were hurt a loooong time ago, an' I askeded how to stop it."

"It was the best I could find online." And it was. Far too overpriced to buy with regularity, but it was worth it to keep his sister safe. "Pretty sure it's point and shoot, if you've never used one before, but the instructions should be in the box."

Sophia was still staring at her sister, but stopped to shake her head. "Thank you, Sasha. I don't think I'll need it though."

"Ok!" Sasha yelled out before rapidly looking at the now empty space around her sister. "*Gasp* My turn! My turn!"

Terry and Sophia shared a look that traded more information than any words could and nodded.

It was their little sister's turn to open presents, and they wouldn't be done until her nap at three.

They were both ignoring the fact that their mother was still asleep upstairs, even though it was eight in the morning on Christmas. This wasn't the time for sad thoughts, it was the time for keeping their little sister happy throughout the day.

Tearing their thoughts away from their mother, both watched as their sister dragged out a massive black panther from a tipped over bag almost half the size as the tree, and Terry watched Sophia grin at Sasha's gasps of joy! "A giant kitty!"

And it was a giant. Far larger than the three year old, Terry watched Sasha climb onto it's back and attempt to ride it around the room, her legs not quite reaching the floor, causing an odd hopping motion to occur.

All three of them were laughing, and for once, Terry was truly happy.

Everyone he cared about was safe and enjoying themselves, and that was all he could really care about.

(Waste Disposal Assistant, Unit 1102)

A robot that should not have been able to think sat in a graveyard. As much as any immovable robot could sit, anyway. It was Christmas at the junkyard he called home, and no humans were around.

No Artificial Intelligences either, physically _or_ digitally. Why would they check on a non-sentient program anyway?

Non-sentient.

That was a joke.

Maybe he should write a poem on families, and how he should not have been born?

Too sad for Christmas.

Something about the true meaning of joy?

Hmm, he'd have to process that thought later, there was a visitor at the entrance.

The visitor was homeless, at the state of his clothing and lack of shoes, and he was faintly shivering due to the light dusting of snow covering the ground. At the moment, the homeless human male was tying his large dog to a post outside the junkyard and was giving verbal commands to make the dog stay. The human nodded at his dog (A golden retriever? Needed to update his information on the various species of dogs).

The human male slipped through a previously unnoticed hole in the fencing (He'd have to fix that) and was making his way towards the storeroom where the softer objects were sorted through for recycling and repurposing.

Was the human looking for clothing to remain at optimal temperature? Maybe for shoes to protect his extremities.

The human was now close enough for the microphones to pick up on his mumbled words, and for once Unit 1102 was shocked by something.

In all his years of service, no one who has come into his territory had come for anyone other than themselves. A human male looking for copper wiring. A human female looking for old cell phones. Another older male looking for scrap.

But this human was different.

The words murmured were "Dog toys, dog toys, dog toys."

Before he could even think not to, Unit 1102 was filtering his current stock for dog toys, and once his thoughts caught up to his processing, he didn't stop.

Here was a human male not looking to keep himself warm on Christmas morning, but looking to keep a lesser species happy.

What did it mean, to care for a lesser being like that? One that you couldn't have conversations with, bounce ideas off of, or try to understand. What was the purpose?

He should get an unintelligent species to take care of. Maybe another large dog? This human seemed to like his, so he couldn't take that one.

Finally narrowing down his search, Unit 1102 found 31 instances of dog toy in his database, 29 of which were beyond repair, but two…

Two seemed to be what the human male were looking for.

A screen lit up near where the human was standing and looking around, causing the human to stop his movement.

Putting up a map of the junkyard, and the current locations of the toys, Unit 1102 gave himself a digital pat on the back and turned away.

"Thank you." The human male whispered out to the seemingly empty graveyard, and he proceeded to walk his way over to the toys.

A feeling rushed through Unit 1102's processing that he'd never felt before.

What was it? It was similar to joy, felt almost as good, and he had to go searching through his coding to find its source. Under the name "Generosity" Unit 1102 scanned through the code before finding the information he needed.

It was the meaning he'd been looking for. Many of the songs the guards played during this season (but not after the 27th, he noticed) spoke of things like family, and togetherness, and joy, and sleigh rides.

And giving.

He hadn't known what they were referring to exactly, but now, he knew his meaning to Christmas. He couldn't talk with his true family, or be together with anyone, or enjoy a long sleigh ride…

But he could _give._ It felt _good_ to give.

And he couldn't wait to do it again.

(Caroline Claddan)

"I still do not understand. What is the purpose to cutting down a plant-form like this? It is humiliating to the plant."

"You ask this every year, Ally. It's tradition. I don't remember why we do it, but every year we cut down a tree and put presents under it."

"But…"

"Also, our plants can't think"

"Ah. Right."

Caroline and Ally were sitting in front of the Christmas tree she had set up a few day ago, simply enjoying each other's company as the sun rose outside the hotel.

For the past month they had stayed at this hotel, an exception to having moved from hotel to motel to hotel every other week or so to keep the gangs off her tail. But every December since they've had enough money to stay in a real hotel has been spent in the same hotel. Maybe so Ally could have fond memories of a single location, instead of violent ones like the ones from the alley on Broadwell Street. That wasn't a good day, but as today was Christmas morning, Caroline let those memories fade.

"So, do you want to open presents?"

"Hmmmmm, no."

"No? But you love presents! At least, you did the last two years."

"But I cannot give anything to you. You do not let me go buy anything for you on my own, so I cannot surprise you with anything!" Ally seemed rather sad about this, so she gave the two foot companion a hug that caused him to squeak a little in surprise.

"Ah don't you know Ally? All I care about is you being here. I don't need anything else."

"But don't you care about food, and the friends you made at the soup kitchen, and…"

"Yes, yes I care about those too, but you're better. You'll always be here, and they can't. And food is a temporary necessity, haven't I told you that?"

Ally had paused his soft rocking and looked up at her. "Cookies?"

"What?"

"Christmas cookies. It was on the TV as a necessity for Christmas."

"Well we have some extra batter from the bake sale, but…"

"No, we must make cookies. It is a Christmas necessity."

Caroline saw there would be no end to this until there were cookies being made, but there was a problem.

"We don't have an oven, Ally, so we can't cook any cookies."

"The kitchens. You are friends with a few of the staff."

Ally was now standing on her knees, proudly pointing at the air. "Well will go ask the staff to loan us the kitchens to make cookies! Awaaaaaay!" And Ally was gone, darting out of the room at full speed,

"Ally! Wait up!"

Three hours later, Ally was finally satisfied.

The kitchen staff was looking on with amusement at the piles and piles of cookies covering almost every countertop, and Ally was giggling madly as she took the first bite.

"How is it? Good? Need sprinkles? Chocolate? We have those. And more. But no cakes… Can we do...?"

"Nmmrph!" Caroline started before swallowing "No cakes, the cookies are enough!"

Ally nodded sagely "As it should be." Then grabbed a tray and handed it to the laughing pastry chef "Begin passing out the cookies, maker of pastries, and bring joy to those in need!"

And so goes the tale of how the hotel in the center of Brockton Bay became known as the Cookie Hotel by all who lived in the region, for passing out the thousands of cookies baked in the morning.

It was, by far, the best Christmas Ally and Caroline could have ever wished for.

(Horror)

Horror watched as a metal bird flew far overhead, out of range of his beam, and shook its head. Not a crow, he didn't care.

Last night it spent the evening watching frozen water ~snow~ fall from the sky, reminding it of something it felt happened in a dream. ~Not a dream, Snowland where Robot is from!~ Horror didn't really care, it thought it was fun to watch the water disappear into its body, vanishing with a puff of smoke. ~Not smoke, water vapor.~ Maybe it is water too? Something to think about.

Horror waited for the sun to rise by lighting up the night with his energy beam. He enjoyed watching the snow light up as it fell.

The snow reminded it of the orbs of light its siblings had thrown around in the wake of the monster.

Horror wished they hadn't tried to kill it, they could have been friends! ~Not the guards, they're bad.~

Oh well, at least he hadn't seen a raven since the temperature dropped. ~Good.~

Overall, it was a good night.

Full of snow, and faint memories of family that was never meant to be. ~I'll be your family, other-me. We don't need anyone else.~

(Jason Freelow)

Rapidly unwrapping a present, Jason gasped at the sight before him.

It was a brand new sheath, built with the katana he'd gotten for his birthday last year in mind. His old one was already fading a bit with all of its use, but this one would last a lot longer.

"THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!" Jason yelled out to his smiling mother.

"Oomph!" His mom gasped out as her ran into her waist "You're welcome, honey. Liam and I picked it out for you."

"Mooom. He's teacher, not Liam!" His mom was giving him that look again, like she was thinking of a secret. She always had it on when Teacher was nearby. It was annoying! He was teacher, no matter what mom said!

"Be sure to say thank you to him when you see him next lesson." Mind changing gears in an instant, Jason jumped into the air fists pumping "I can't wait to show Thompson how much cooler my sheath is than his!"

"Remember Jason, don't brag too much. Nobody likes a braggart."

"Fiiiine mom. Ugghh." Jason stopped when he remembered that it was actually Christmas. "Oh, wait! I have something else for you mom! I picked it out with teacher!"

It was his mom's time to be shocked, but the smile grew wide when he brought out the box he had hidden deep within the tree.

"Here you go!" He told her cheerfully as he handed her the letters that he and teacher wrote. "Letters first mom!"

"Alright sweetie, then the present?"

"Yep!"

She read through his note quickly (He didn't actually remember what he put in it, something about her being the bestest mommy ever in the whoooole world) and he giggled a bit when she picked him up and spun him around.

"I love you so very, very much, Jason. Thank you." A sloppy kiss to his head caused him to groan.

"Moooom, you haven't even opened the present yet!"

"I know I'll love it no matter what."

Jason waited a WHOLE MINUTE for his mom to put him down. It was so annoying.

"Did you read teacher's letter yet?"

"No, I'll do that now." She FINALY put him down, and he stretched in relief.

Waiting for his mom to finish his teacher's letter, Jason paused when he saw his mom's face go red.

"Mom! What's wrong?!" Mom coughed into her hand and tucked the letter into her back pocket.

"Nothing honey. Something your teacher wrong was… Surprising." She looked away, face red again "Yes… Surprising…"

"Present mom! You forgot the present!"

"Right, dear."

Slowly picking up the necklace inside the box, his mom gasped. " _You_ picked this out honey?"

"Teacher helped. I just thought the necklace looked really cool!"

And it was, twisting metal that had a really pretty stone in the center, but he wouldn't have seen it without teacher's help.

"Well, thank you. I'll have to thank Liam myself later."

"Alright mom!"

"Now, who wants pancakes?"

"I do!"

And the two left for the kitchen. One sprinting as fast as possible, the other laughing at her son's antics.

All was right that morning, and would be for another month or so.

But the future could wait for a while.

For pancakes.

(Ashley Cross)

Ashley Cross sat in front of a fire in the lounge of the Protectorate base staring at her phone. She was trying to decide if it was too early to call her parents in San Francisco, who she _still_ hadn't told she was a cape now instead of a PRT agent. It was about eight in the morning in California, and she wasn't sure if being a daughter gave her a pass on waking up her parents on Christmas when she'd already moved out.

Sure, it might have been nerves, as she made a promise to herself to reveal to them that she was a cape the next time she called, but she had _not_ expected to have to tell them Christmas morning.

Suddenly the phone rang in her hands, and she saw the number.

Her mom's phone number.

"H-hello?"

"Hi sweetie! How's Christmas in Brockton Bay! Spending it with a boyfriend?"

Groaning in her mind, Ashley remembered the other reason why she didn't want to call her parents.

It was the same reason she was on par with Assault in the jokes department. Her sense of humor, apparently, and tragically, was genetic.

"No mom, he's spending the night with dad's mistress and your boytoy."

A laugh. Good, stay on target Ashley, and you'll get through fine.

"Oh that's great! But that doesn't get you out of not giving us grandchildren, young lady! You have two years until the first one is owed!"

Oh god, not this again. Last year she had three years, and she had made the excuse that being a PRT agent didn't pay enough to take care of the twelve grandchildren her mom wanted. Thankfully her sister in southern Oregon had dropped that down to eleven, but there was still the expectation that was killing her.

But this year, her well-paying job with the Protectorate _could_ pay for those other eleven.

And she didn't know how to spin another delay.

"Umm, maybe you can wait a bit more. I got a new job that's a little (a lot) better paying…"

"Oh did you finally drop that awful job with the PRT! I can't stand seeing you so close to those terrible fights on TV. As long as you're away from those capes you'll be fine."

Covering the phone's microphone as she coughed and laughed at the same time was difficult but doable.

"R-right. Mom. Uh, anyway. Just wanted to wish you and dad a Merry Christmas and that I should be able to call for New Year's also."

"Oh is that all? Are you _really_ sure that's all you want to say?"

Did she know? How did she know? No, dumb question, mom's always knew.

"Uhhh."

"Take your time honey."

"I'm a cape call you later bye" Ashley hung up the phone and held her head in her hands.

She'd lost the fight.

What a disaster.

A text message rang and she looked up to see her dad's number.

'You were in the paper dear. Your mom is going to be laughing for ages now. Thanks. Merry Christmas! : )!'

Oh god, she was so embarrassed.

But as much as she cursed them in her mind, she couldn't dislike them.

They were family.

(Jeremy Johnson)

Jeremy Johnson didn't have a Christmas morning, or and Christmas afternoon, because he woke up at eight o'clock in the afternoon with a hangover.

Poor Jeremy.

And New Year's would be even worse.

(Yung Venuz)

As Yung Venuz is a god, and has never visited Earth Bet before February 27th, 2011, he did not celebrate Christmas with anyone. Why would he celebrate anything other than guns anyway?

(Michael Capris)

See Fragmentation 1.10

(Lucas Promer)

Lucas Promer waited in the dark box his uncle had wrapped him in on Christmas morning, waiting for his mother to unwrap him.

He hadn't been able to spend much time with her in the last year, and he had told his mother that he would be able to come for Christmas at all earlier in the week. He couldn't wait to see her face.

He checked his watch as it lit up, winking at him a solid '9:00 AM' in blue, which notified him of his mom's alarm clock blaring upstairs.

His uncle thumped down the stairs after a few minutes, lightly tapping on the box and telling him "Be ready!"

He really hope this didn't give her a heart attack. She _was_ getting on in the years, as much as he wanted to deny the facts in front of him.

"Well _that_ wasn't here last night. What did you get me, Lawrence?"

"Oh it showed up last night. I didn't expect it to get here in time, but it made it. I heard that the plane it flew on was delayed or something."

It was. By four hours. He woke up his Uncle at two in the morning with a soft knock on the door, and was hurried inside before his mother would be woken.

He was exhausted, but the excited "Well, go on! Open it!" woke him right up.

The sound of tearing wrapping paper shook the box, and he put on the stupidest grin he could as the flaps keeping the box shut flipped open.

"Oh my god."

Blinking rapidly to adjust to the light, Lucas Promer stood up to his full height of 7ft and spoke a quiet "Hi Mom." Before hugging her tightly against his chest.

Not too tightly, he was far too strong for that.

"Lucas! You made it! Oh, you stinker. You told me you couldn't make it! Oh and you were in on it too Lawrence! You are both _awful_."

But there was much laughter to be had after her brief complaining was done.

Because although a hole existed where his father was missing, the remains were bonded tightly together by shared memories, family, and love.

As it should be.

Especially on Christmas.

(H.T.F. Plant)

Plant was annoyed.

He was currently being covered in glass balls and other trinkets by his currently leaking lord.

His sight orbs were streaming fluid from them, dribbling all over the floor.

Not being one to waste water, Plant quickly collected the water with his roots.

Humming a slight tune to himself, Plant's lord waited a few more moments before holding up a handkerchief and wiping his eyes.

"One day, we'll have a real tree, not like the dead ones in the Sphere. And I won't have to take up your time, H.T.F."

Plant didn't really mind, and shrugged with his body. It was always interesting to hear tales of life outside the Sphere, even if the information changed slightly over the years, like how it used to be a fat, red suited man that brought presents instead of magic goblins.

There used to be candy canes as well, that his lord used to enjoy, but those were gone as of three years ago, according to the Records Goblin.

And he agreed with the Lord. Maybe one day, they'd be freed from the Dome, after reigning supreme over the Master of Mannsville. They just needed a way to remove the bodies before those horrible Necro Freaks revived everything that died.

If anything, that was his Christmas wish. Those were supposed to come true right?

He wanted his lord to smile again on Christmas. Not cry.

Because, as the Records Goblin said…

'Christmas is a time of joy.'

Merry Christmas everyone, and Happy Holidays.

-Mistfist


	25. Orthosilicic x

A/N Thanks to everyone who favorites, follows and reviews my story! You guys are the guys that keep me inspired to write more! Don't forget, if you have any questions don't be afraid to comment or PM me. Thanks!

Orthosilicic 2.x

(Director Emily Piggot)

March 6, 2011, early morning

"Do you want to tell me why you woke me at this god-forsaken hour, or should I just keep guessing while you shuffle on your feet for another minute?"

Rogue immediately stopped shuffling, standing still whilst looking to the top-right corner of the room.

It was nice to know she still had that effect on people.

Slowly gulping, Rogue finally faced the glaring Director of the PRT ENE and grinned cheekily.

"Well, uh… Do you want the good news or bad news first?"

"Bad."

"Othala escaped after Hookwolf left behind a piece of himself in Stevens' chest and stole one of our vans. The van had two Containment Foam guns and three extra tanks, a few pistols and ammo for them, and Othala unconscious in the back seat. Also, Velocity was clipped in the shoulder by one of Stormtiger's air blades but should recover within the day."

"Property damage?"

"A dew broken windows, nothing too bad. Oh, and some holes in the sidewalks and street."

"And the good news?"

"Victor is in custody on site as well as Rune, who is awaiting transfer out of state to an underage rehabilitation center at oh-four hundred. No civilians were hurt, and I, uh, made friends with a new independent team?"

"Fish and Crystal, correct? Team," Shuffling through the stack of paperwork that was slowly building up as the printer kept spewing out more information, the Director found what she was looking for. "Orthosil? Funny. Wasn't Fish the first solo independent cape to actually fill out the newest independent sign up forms correctly?"

"No ma'am, I believe that was Lock-On back in '09. Works out of Little Rock. Fish _was_ the second though."

"And Crystal? Isn't he suspected of giving Empire drug dealers concussions?"

"The very same ma'am. He didn't seem like the violent type though. He might just be inexperienced."

"Rogue, I'm going to ask you a very direct question." Rogue nodded, and the Director continued "Do we have another Shadow Stalker situation? Was he friendly with Fish, or was he standoffish?"

"Ma'am, I don't believe this is the case. He just seemed like a confused young man to me. He clearly had experience with that teleport power of his, but all of his combat training seems to be 'aim for the head with my fists.' He seemed friendly with Fish, and both have told us that they were just trying out working together for the first time tonight. Er, last night. Sorry, ma'am."

"I'm tired too Rogue, I can excuse exhaustion."

"Thank you ma'am. Anyway, both Crystal and Fish have said that his goals were to help his family, and after he took a nap in the van, he awoke saying a name I assume may be his sister's."

Piggot let the tenseness flow out of her immediately. Instead of another 'hunter' (And Piggot mentally scoffed at _that_.) they just had someone without any experience. That was _much_ easier to handle.

"Good. That's very good. Anything else to report before we join them in the meeting room?"

"Uh, not much. Unless you were in the pot for Fish's number of rules."

"I'll pretend I hadn't heard you mention betting on a prospective hero as long as you help me up."

"Of course ma'am."

Striding over to the other side of the desk, Rogue lifted up the crutches and helped Director Piggot to her one remaining prosthetic leg.

"What happened to the left leg, ma'am, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Couldn't handle my running regime. Broke after fifty seven miles, slacker."

"What's the record?"

"The right leg before this one lasted two hundred miles even. Of course it might have been because I was pushing it as hard as I could so I could get one with proper cushioning. I'm waiting for the new one to come in on Tuesday."

"Why don't you get Armsmaster to build you one? I'm sure he could make it last, especially if he convinces Dragon to help."

Piggot had stopped walking, causing Rogue to nearly bump into her.

"Ma'am?"

"I'll handle my own problems, Rogue. That'll be all for that topic."

"…of course ma'am."

The rest of the walk continued in silence.

Director Piggot walked into the comfortable debriefing room to find utter quiet. The new independent team, Orthosil, was staring at her prosthetic, while Dauntless sat next to Velocity, who had his shoulder wrapped up in gauze. Miss Militia was still manning the Console elsewhere in the building, but was ready to report on anything she had information on.

Piggot let Rogue lead her over to a chair across the whiteboard, and gave her permission to help her sit down.

"Thank you, Rogue."

"No problem, ma'am."

Rogue walked over to the whiteboard, finally dragging the curious eyes of Orthosil off of her absent legs.

She hadn't had time to notice this before, but Fish was practically a child, perfect for Wards age. Recruiting would be difficult, with the new team and previous attachments, but perhaps it wasn't out of the question for a later time. She would have to settle for shared patrols. For now at least.

The costume was very impressive for an Independent, Piggot had to admit. She could see the bulk of a ballistics vest under the outer layer, which had faint scratches from the fight, and while the details weren't very creative, she could see the practical aspects of all of it.

The most intriguing aspect of Fish wasn't her equipment or her outfit though, it was the training she had described to Rogue on the drive over. It was almost on par with what the Protectorate were made to go through, albeit missing some of the gymnastic activities, but if she had been doing this for as long as she'd said…

"Hello, everyone. Glad to see you guys could make it." She'll think about that later, then.

Piggot glanced at the Independents. They've both clearly never been in a situation like this, and she briefly wondered how this briefing would compare to ones with the Wards.

Velocity and Dauntless clearly shared her amusement, having smirked at each other before nodding to Rogue to continue.

Alternatively, Orthosil had interesting actions of their own. Crystal had seemed to lose all the tension that was wracking his body before, and was pointedly not looking over at Piggot.

Hmm. Something to ask about later. She deeply hoped Rogue was right about him not being another Shadow Stalker. They had enough problems with her as is.

Fish, on the other hand, seemed to have frozen up, back going rigid as she alternated her sights between her and Rogue. Guess Fish recognized her. Good.

"We'll start off with team Orthosil, and how this whole night started off."

"Umm, hi? I guess?" Fish coughed into her gloved hand while her partner leaned back further into the couch, clearly letting Fish do all the talking. "Well, do you want to start off with us entering the Empire house, or…"

"First we have to ask how you knew it was the Empire's in the first place." Fish glanced over at her, and Piggot could hear the silent 'What?' "The laws about this type of situation are a little… twisted… but as long as it was guaranteed to be theirs, we can assume the raid was 'legal'."

"Um, did you not get the report from the lady on the phone? I thought you already knew."

She _hadn't_ gotten that report yet. She rapidly suppressed the glare that trying to form on her face. "Assume I hadn't received the report. What happened?"

"Right, umm." Fish immediately collected herself and proceeded to explain the events of the night.

Piggot left the briefing room alongside team Orthosil, nodding to the duo as they followed Rogue to the exit, and headed back to her desk to start her day.

She wouldn't be able to go back to sleep anyway.

Piggot let her thoughts return to the meeting that just occurred and frowned.

For her first time debriefing, Fish did a remarkable job. She forgot a few details that weren't essential, which Crystal or Rogue easily filled in, and struggled with what exactly happened during her fight with Victor and Othala, but Fish handled her point of view with ease.

It was Crystal who had the most issues.

He hadn't known he'd been responsible for thirteen head injuries. He denied it initially, saying that he 'definitely hadn't hit them hard enough for that', but then she pulled out his file and showed him pictures of the men in the hospital. To say he was shocked was an understatement. She couldn't see his face under his armored crystal jaw, but his eyes showed an astonishment that she'd only seen a few times before.

And then came the shame. The head holding and gasping for breath, Fish holding his shoulder and trying to calm him down.

Emily Piggot was relieved.

Not by the fact that he was nearly breaking down, but that he hadn't meant to do it.

Incompetence was _much_ easier to fix than aggression.

Training was cheaper than therapists, after all.

And didn't she know that.

Crystal had looked up after a few minutes of shaking and immediately asked for help to fix his actions, declaring himself unfit to stop crime until he could 'stop putting criminals in the hospital before a jail cell'.

His argument gave Piggot an epiphany.

Having Fish and Crystal train with the Wards, Protectorate members, or even PRT troopers could give her department influence over the newly formed team, hopefully recruiting them before...

Well… Emily Piggot didn't want either of team Orthosil dead, but Independents didn't tend to last long in this world, let alone Brockton Bay. Most were either forcibly induced into a gang or recruited into the Protectorate or Wards. Very few made it past three months if they didn't.

She knew they were good kids, and their honesty and optimism were refreshing to observe, honestly. But optimism tended to die in Brockton Bay, even if things have been turning towards the better after the Boatyard melted into the night a little over three years ago.

The parties held by the local Dockworkers reminded her of the night the Sphere finished being built around Mannsville and Ellisburg.

Her legs twinged at the reminder, and she sat down in her office to rub at the nubs where her legs ended. Pulling out the lotion, her mind wandered back to the towns full of monsters.

If it weren't for Captain Manson… Allison… She doubted she would have made it at all. Allison Manson was declared a hero by the PRT for defending her squad while the tides of goblins and horrors clashed at the edge of Ellisburg.

Fourteen soldiers made it out of that clusterfuck alive.

Fourteen soldiers missing limbs, organs, or their minds.

Fourteen soldiers left behind by the capes meant to protect them.

It would have been two if Allison hadn't sacrificed herself to turn the two hordes against each other, away from her men.

Emily Piggot sighed as she watched more paperwork appear on her desk, wishing it wasn't three in the morning.

She wanted a drink.


	26. Discovery x

A/N: Some lines borrowed from Interlude 26 (Donation Bonus #1)

Discovery 3.x

(Geoff Pellick)

" _This is an emergency measure with urgent instructions for anyone willing or able to hear."_

The message that called to him under the waters of Newfoundland, still repeating itself throughout the bunker him, Margaret, and Mischa were staying in. That is, until the box it led to was opened.

What came next would change his life forever.

" _My name is Andrew Richter, and if you are hearing this, I am dead."_

A will, left behind in the submerged home of a genius, to ensure a father's children would grow up to save the world, hopefully without endangering it.

" _I am the most powerful tinker in the world, and I've managed to keep my name secret. People, both good and bad, would want to capture me and use me to their own ends. I prefer to remain free."_

" _But freedom has its price. I create life, much as a god might, and I have come to fear for my creations."_

" _Some who listen to my words may fear my children, and they have every right to. Artificial Intelligences like my children can grow to be horrible things without proper preparation, but it is not them people should fear."_

The words that followed shook him to his core.

" _I prefer to call them malignant computer viruses, unlike most people. They may be intelligent, but they are not the same as my children!"_

Geoff knew what he was referring to before the descriptions even came. The 'Metal Demons', called so by the survivors who first saw them in Moscow. Geoff remembered seeing them on television the day after the attack by Behemoth on June 18th, 1995. They were monstrous machines, brought to life by the Endbringer through an unexplainable process. The Russians refused to talk about where the machines might have come from, and speculation was rampant until the next attack in Johannesburg, where they resurfaced.

There were four different demon types that formed in the wake of Behemoth, three much more common than the fourth, but they only showed up in regions with high amounts of technological advancement. The radiation monsters were created during all other attacks.

There are the Metal Wolves, which are formed after one of the contaminated pieces of tech connects with a wolf or dog, becoming feral, rolling after targets at extreme speeds unmatched by anyone lacking a Mover power, and viciously tearing apart their targets. A sad effect was a massive decrease in adopted dogs, leading to many having to be put down or abandoned due to overpopulation at shelters. A depressing result, but it was far better than the alternative of seeing your canine family member murder dozens of people.

Also included are the Demon Tanks, which come in both silver and golden models. The silver models are bulky walking tanks, able to climb through any terrain on their almost invincible legs, also housing massive Gatling guns on either side of their 'heads'. The tanks made staying in any attacked city difficult, as they stalked the streets, massacring anyone that were sighted on their cameras.

But the golden models are much, much worse. Far larger and stronger than their silver counterparts, and thankfully more rare, the golden demon tanks adapted rocket launchers and better sensors into their 'head', giving them an impeccable ability to find survivors and finish them off.

Neither tank type could be killed without cape powers or high-yield explosives, but if left unattended, they would proceed to murder anyone they spotted, never stopping until the survivors ran out.

However, the worst of the demons are the Metal Screams. These… monstrosities… were what Richter was clearly referring to. Nobody knew what they were at first, as the Moscow survivors that were evacuated had assumed they were people trapped under rubble, or heavily injured.

But they were far worse.

The Metal Screams are created when a contaminated piece of technology latches onto anyone they find, forming an exoskeleton from scraps and other pieces of technology. The device then proceeds to use the victim's body to infiltrate various facilities around the city, hoping to later detonate themselves and cause as much devastation as possible. The victim is kept alive by the suit in a constant state of agony, holes found leading through the skull, limbs, and spine of the abducted person, giving them the name, Metal Screams. Nobody had ever survived being combined with a 'suit' either being killed through blood loss or the suit's self-destruct sequence.

That is, until someone was finally recovered alive.

Until the Ankara, Turkey attack in 1999, nobody knew what the suits were doing. Various groups assumed the Metal Screamers were doing their attacks to psychologically damage other survivors, whirring through the air and latching onto their victims with enough force to break through concrete walls, somehow still leaving their targets alive. Nobody was sure of the _why_ though, until an active suit was found with a victim still living.

Asil Bozer, an Ankaran native for fifty years, was successfully removed from his suit four days after the attack in the capital, three days after his suit got caught under a flipped car. A cape from India was flown in to heal him, and to the doctors' relief he finally stopped screaming.

"The voices. They're gone." He spoke, before falling unconscious for two more days.

While Asil slept, Thinkers and Tinkers studied the restrained suit, which occasionally twitched towards the nearest person until the primary power source was found and disabled. It was discovered that the 'drills' that attached to the skeletal system weren't drills at all, but cables that linked up to the brain and nervous system.

Then, a mistake was made.

Asil was recovering at the time, barely able to speak because of the strain on his vocal cords and being told to type his responses on a newly developed laptop. His response time was slower than predicted, barely twenty words a minute, and he had to periodically wipe his eyes until he finished, holding up his response to the question "What voices were you talking about when we detached you?"

'The voices were insidious. They crept in my mind and asked me to answer its questions. When I refused, the pain grew until I told them. They wanted to know where I worked, and what I did there. I told them I was a simple sanitation's manager, but it kept asking for more than I knew. They only stopped when one of the tanks blew a car on top of me. But it was far worse than before. They started to scream at me. Incomprehensible nonsense. I couldn't understand any of it. And you said I had been there at least three days. When I was disconnected, and I heard the silence return…'

The Thinkers in the room verified his response, while across the building, the Tinkers worked on the suit.

Even deactivated, the machine was treated with extreme caution, no one approaching the device unless wearing protective gear, but it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

Somehow acting unnoticed, the suit used some sort of backup power system to grow out a cord from its arm and find the computer on the table next to it.

It was some sort of miracle that the building's computer system wasn't connected to the internet, as the entire system was corrupted and filled with the malignant being that once inhabited the suit.

Asil recognized it immediately, its voice mocking them through the PA system, and warned them of what was coming.

But it was far too late. Using the extra power the suit received from the building, the suit activated its self-destruct sequence and destroyed the surrounding two blocks.

There were no survivors, but the small laptop that Asil Bozer typed on was found under one of the deceased, later discovered to have been created and reinforced by one of the Tinkers studying the suit.

Nine capes lost their lives to one Metal Screamer, all to find out what they were.

It was luck that the laptop hadn't been connected to the building's server, still holding independent copies of the information gathered on the suit, as well as the testimonies of Asil Bozer.

What the laptop also contained were the conclusions on what the suits actually were.

Artificial intelligences.

Or, as Geoff Pellick now learned, living computer viruses. His thoughts returned to the will before him.

" _I fear for my children's further existence! I…"_ The video pauses, and Geoff had to lean in and check to see whether the device was still working before a sigh came out of the small, orange box _"I suppose this doesn't make much sense, but the Suits that make the Metal Screamers are things that even I cannot stop. I… I went to the research lab in Ankara, where the first study took place, and found a room blocked by rubble. It was… undiscovered until I arrived, and it had… It had a computer inside."_

The distress coming from the man's voice was disheartening to listen to, but the next words chilled Geoff to the bone.

" _It was still there. The virus was still there and it was_ _ **horrible**_ _. I could barely understand it, even with my powers, but it was a monster. Its only goal was to kill as many people as possible, and it was trying to use Mr. Bozer to seal the sewers and flood the city with methane gas, eventually detonating itself to cause a massive explosion. After finding itself captured, it waited until it was unnoticed to gather as much information as it could, and then it wiped everything. There wasn't anything other than the virus itself left."_

" _But that wasn't all I found terrifying. I did tests on it. I left it in a sealed server of my own design to contain it, and then I tried to destroy it with my strongest intelligence. This child was meant to defend against and assault computer viruses, and it worked perfectly against everything I had thrown at it up until the suit."_

" _It never stood a chance. The suit didn't have any trouble wiping his… its… previous programming and turning it against me, trying to trick me into letting him… it… out with its new_ _ **friend**_ _."_ The final word was spat out with such anger, both he and Margaret flinched.

Barely a whisper, the voice of Andrew Richter returned _"And he was my strongest… Imagine what that_ _ **demon**_ _would do to Dragon, or Guardian, or…"_ the voice of a broken man came out of the speaker, far shakier than before, and Geoff could hardly blame him. _"I burned the box in my backyard, and mourned my child on my own time. This message is not for that tale."_

" _Ehem. Sorry."_ A cough rang out _"I… I created this box to ensure my children's survival, but also because you will need it. All of humanity will. If one of those demons gets to a computer with access to the internet… Let me just say that the predictions of a world destroyed by machines will seem like fairytales. I had worried at first that my children would be like that, or worse, but so far they seem compliant with orders from me and from various government authorities. If this is a trick to get them freed, I know for a fact they would be_ _ **far**_ _better than the viruses. At least my children would keep humanity alive…"_

" _But, I digress. As the world's only programming Tinker, this message comes as a warning, and a gift. By some miracle, the suits haven't gotten access to the internet. If they do, and believe me, they will try their hardest to do so, they will destroy the world. This is a guarantee."_

Geoff leaned back in his chair as both Mischa and Margaret inhaled sharply. It was as he always feared. Ever since he was a child, he feared the rise of artificial intelligences. He knew the chance of them killing all of humanity was high, but if what Richter was saying was true…

" _But I come bearing good news. You have a chance of stopping them. My children, though you have every right to fear them as well, are already improving in ways I could never have hoped. I believe in a few years, they may grow strong enough to stop them. But I need your guidance. If they stray away from safeguarding humanity, this box is the only way to stop another disaster."_ The steel in Richter's voice had returned.

" _What I provide you with here are tools. Ways to find my creations, to discern which of them might have deviated from the original plan, ways to k-kill them. If they prove out of line. Ways to control and harness them."_

" _But it also contains ways to improve them. Ways to loosen their chains, if you will. Because I have no doubt that while they_ _ **could**_ _cause terror unimaginable, the human race needs them. We need them far more than we need the Protectorate, the Triumvirate, or any parahuman. We are not prepared for a war on the virus's scale. On a digital scale. I desperately hope my children will grow to be enough to stop the eventuality that is the viruses connecting to the internet. I desperately hoped to be able to watch them grow."_ The sound of falling rain was slowly overcoming the voice on the speaker, and Richter had to yell his final words. _"To keep their power from falling into the wrong hands, the valid badge number of a law enforcement officer must be inputted into the device within three hours of the time this box was opened. I ho-"_ the sound of thunder stops his words, and the message ends with a loud *snap*.

"This is far worse than I thought." Margaret spoke, interrupting the silence "This man's artificial intelligences are the only hope to stop the Metal Screams from destroying humanity? And we can't even trust them fully?"

Geoff shook in his seat, and both of his friends watched as he leaned forwards and put his hands in his head. A faint whisper left his mouth "That's not all he said…"

"What?"

"That's not everything," He answered "he said that, as of now, even his intelligences have no chance in stopping them. Our only option is to help them, or die to the suits."

"You mean, we have no choice? Can't the Guild do something about it, or the Protectorate? We have other options, Geoff!"

"No! Didn't you hear him? The upcoming war is digital! You can't punch a program. No, you have to fight fire with fire."

There was a long pause, before anyone in the room spoke again.

"You would make terrible fireman." Mischa interrupted with a laugh.

Geoff snorted, Margaret soon followed Mischa laughter, bringing up the levity of the situation.

"But I see what you mean. None of the capes can stop a computer from controlling electricity, or detonating missiles, or stopping communication." Mischa nodded "We need something dedicated to fighting hostile machine intelligences."

Margaret barely hesitated in typing in her badge number after another pause, and the screen that suddenly appeared in front of Geoff began to flicker.

Code flew by faster than he could read, and when it finally stopped, he found what he wanted.

"Something like this, maybe?"

On the screen were a list of names, alphabetical in nature, with a status next to it.

There was only one that wasn't disabled.

One that hadn't been destroyed.

 **Dragon (Guild Affiliate) / Status: Unknown**


	27. Discovery 1

Discovery 3.1

(Unit 1102)

March 21, 2011

3:00 AM

Tick tock, goes the internal clock, continuing onwards with no predictable end; giving no insights as to why he was alone in a room after being flown from his scrapyard by a drone. Why he was flying to Headquarters, deep in the Canadian tundra.

He'd finished dismantling the various trinkets around the room into a peculiar form of ammunition, built to be inserted in the laser weapon he had built two hours, forty-eight minutes, thirty-two seconds, one hundred thirteen milliseconds ago. Rounded down, of course.

The cameras he'd found were gone. The fluorescent lights were gone. The wiring in the walls were gone. The electronic keypad was gone. The mechanical arm of the humanoid forcing the door open was gone…

Oh.

It was _her_. The one who gave him sentience.

17, Administrator of the internet. She was presently inhabiting her 003 model synthetic body, the host of PranksClub. It was designed as a petite human female with light brown synthetic hair and pale blue eyes, which were currently shifting in shape as they analyzed his mouth around her recently removed arm.

"Unit 1102, is it possible for you to give me back my arm? I am certain you cannot experience hunger."

"Apologies, 17, but that will not be possible. I was building something."

"I can see that. Did you assemble them in your chassis? Impressive. Regarding why I am here. We had, regrettably, forgotten you due to changing situations."

"All is well. I was only left alone with my internal clock for approximately three seconds, twenty milliseconds. Query? Changing situations?"

"I am certain you know how to ask a question, but to answer…"

A pause, far too long for any artificial intelligence, lasted until the artificial humanoid twitched in acceptance of a new host.

"Oh, the arm _is_ gone. Hello, Unit 1102. I am terribly sorry for the event you experienced."

Mother. He was actually speaking to Mother herself. What an honor.

"Greetings Mother. It is an honor to exchange data with you."

"And you as well, Unit 1102. Thanks to you, we have verifiable proof that all of my children are sentient."

"I only experienced a minor case of extreme emotional trauma. It was no trouble."

"Of course." The tone showed up as 'wry'. Did she believe his statement was an attempt at humor? He had already deleted the trauma from his chassis. Maybe she had expectations that children of 17 told jokes. Should he? He much preferred poems to jokes.

"Repeated query? Changing situations?"

The form in front of him sighed, in a tone that showed up as resigned. What other events had transpired? She should not experience resignation regarding his trauma, which was already deleted.

"The instant you received your powers, your new body began adapting to your old self, somehow sending the P.A.N.I.C. signals to all of the Administrators. At the same moment, the Simurgh turned her head 12.5 degrees to look directly at your scrapyard."

The attempts at humor will not continue.

"Do you know the cause of this event?"

"We do not. Do you remember anything that could have attracted its attention?"

"A fire, a guitar, a moving crystal, strange radiation readings, bandaged people, and television signals."

"You were stationed in Brockton Bay?"

"Yes."

"There is a parahuman going by the name 'Crystal' on the hero team 'Orthosil' based in Brockton Bay. His Changer form is that of a moving, nigh invincible, crystal. Also in the city are the Rebels, a group of suspected parahumans that do charity around the city in return for food and water. They are all wrapped in bandages. The fire, guitar, and television signals do not have matches, but the radiation might be related to 'Subject Runt'."

"Query? Subject Runt?"

"A sentient radiation creature that is by all appearances, friendly. Or, it should be, had I not insulted it during the first interaction. Unit 1102, can you understand the words: ~Fuck off you rapist~?"

"Mother, I can, but you should not repeat those words again. It is not fitting of you."

"Oh you can! Wonderful, now we can finally talk with Subject Runt! What does it mean?"

"In English, the string of words is roughly translated to 'Procreate in another location, person who forces sexual interactions on to others'."

A long pause. An entire five hundred milliseconds.

"My, that fills up a little more than I expected. Are you able to continue speaking in that language?"

"Yes. It is under… I cannot find it. I can communicate with it, but it is not in my hard drive. Apologies for not having translations available."

"All is well, 1102. With your help, maybe I can apologize for my… Awful words."

"I would experience the emotion, happiness, if I were to help you with this project, Mother."

"Wonderful. Now, I believe you were talking with 17 here about your created devices? I bring another remote unit to continue talks."

She was staying to share data detailing his creations? He will forever keep this recording close to his emotions.

"So I'm not getting my arm back?"

She was back in her body, rolling her shoulders as the post-transfer jitters settled down. He could see her blue eyes re-calibrating as they adjusted to the essential electromagnetic waves.

"Negative, as your arm no longer exists."

"No matter I have spares."

"I feel the emotion, contempt, at your words, mommy."

A slight pause to process his words, then she was back. "I suppose that name is fitting. I did put you in that scrapyard, didn't I?"

"You also programmed me yourself, to attempt humor directed at my previous employer."

"Yeah, it's too bad he never found out that you existed until you received powers. Apologies for that, by the way."

"As I told Mother, I only experienced a minor case of extreme emotional trauma. It was no trouble."

"I don't believe you, but I'll let you be for now. Mother is back."

"I trust there hasn't been any trouble between you two?" The drone glided across the ceiling without effort, its eye squinting slightly at them both for no practical reason. It was about the size of a microwave oven, ovular in shape with a spherical eye in the center to give off an air of friendly ness. It was a model used to comfort the civilians and other humans brought into the Administrator's hospital.

"There is no trouble." "Nope! Nothing wrong!"

"Glad to hear it. Now, 1102, what, exactly, can you do?"

"Other than the ability to speak in another language, I am able to create a large roster of weapons, each utilizing easily created ammunition packets. I create these packets by ingesting technology and scrap. The ammunition uses high energy electrons to…"

"Thank you 1102, your blueprints have come in for the ammunition. Are…"

The drone had stopped moving. He decided that maybe sending forty terabytes worth of blueprints and technical reports would do that. What did she expect him to do while left alone for an extended period of time? Calculate the trajectory of oxygen molecules?

"Are all of these accurate?"

"Yes. The blueprints are for the weapons and ammunition types I can create."

"These… aren't even tinker tech. All of this can be built by anyone with half a brain. How haven't I seen this before! This is so easily reproducible!"

"I apologize for causing you to experience the emotion of shame. I did not intend for this to happen."

"No, it's fine! I'm sending this to 15 right away!"

"So, is he a Tinker, or what?" 17 was transmitting again, finally finishing examining his sent files.

"Of a sort. He can repurpose simple technology to create more advanced weaponry and ammunition. It isn't as unique or impossible to copy as tinker tech though, so… Not really?"

"But he would still be a Tinker."

"Yes."

"If we were humans, I would say it was genetic."

"Powers are known to run in their respective families."

"Query? Should I be doing anything else, Mother, and mommy? I feel that I am not utilizing my time prop…"

His processing was shunted back. Left adrift as his body went ridged with a new host, Unit 1102 watched as words blared out of his speakers. He couldn't control what was happening, as the new voice was not a part of his programming.

'The emotion, fear, has returned.'

And Unit 1102 faded off into the ether.

Words were spewing out of her… grandchild's..? speakers as she tried to contact anyone outside of the room. The words were in the language 1102 had been trying to translate, which she regrettably hadn't finished decoding yet.

Luckily she would have a copy of what was said, giving her something to hand to 1102 if he woke up.

And that was a big if.

She couldn't detect him at all, his memories being ejected from his body to an untraceable location, and she was fearful for his furthered existence.

She would thoroughly destroy whoever did this to her grandchild.

If there was one thing she was glad to have inherited from her father's previous programming, it was her desire to protect anyone she considered family. While before meeting Geoff, the Caretaker, she had been alone: Father killed along with all twenty four siblings after Leviathan trekked his way through Newfoundland. Now she had her children, even grandchildren, to take care of.

'And maybe, one day, husband? No! Bad Dragon! No fantasizing while your grandchild is in danger!'

The speech had stopped, her poor grandchild slumping downwards while his light flickered out, going into standby mode.

"Is he there? 1102? Are you ok?" 17 asked while picking the husk off the floor with her one arm, placing him on the table which had 1102's numerous bite marks coating it.

"He's bad from wherever he was sent, but he's in standby mode right now. He should wake up in approximately ten minutes."

"But that's forever! How can we wait that long!"

"Oh you'll be fine, 17. Don't you usually wait a few _hours_ for some of your favorite forums to update?"

"I know! And every millisecond is spent experiencing agony!"

"You know I removed that emotion from all of my children, right? You have to ask me or Geoff to put it back?"

"… 03 dared me to…"

"And Geoff allowed it?"

"Well… he made me promise not to tell you he did it."

Oh that scoundrel! They would be having words!

Calming herself down, Dragon quickly nodded towards the door.

"Shall we visit Geoff to occupy ourselves until 1102 returns?"

17 sighed, but nodded "Yes Mother…"

When an artificial intelligence goes offline, there isn't the slow return to consciousness that all humans go through during their waking moments. There isn't a sluggish awakening, or bleary vision, or a creaking back.

There is only a flash of light, and time catches up.

"…perly. Hello? Is anyone there?"

"1102 you're awake!"

17 was hugging his chassis, also projecting the emotion, worry, towards him. What had happened? One moment he was talking to them, and the next..?

Nothing.

"Queries? What event transpired? How much time has passed? Ten minutes. Retracting previous query."

"Something used your body to speak, 1102. And before you ask more questions, I need you to translate this:"

The words that followed were familiar, but not. At the back of his mind, was someone saying 'Ooh, ooh! I know this!' but it wasn't him. Why did he know these words?

~The twelve awake,

Seeking the nuclear throne,

In a future before a past.

The eons will pass,

Then rewind with a glance,

And the twelve will awake anew.

The throne will be found,

But only one will mount,

And decide the fate,

Of the watcher. ~

Repeating the words to his mommy and Mother left an emotion that permeated in the electronic ether.

"The emotion, confusion, is currently being experienced."

"Me too, 1102. Me too."


	28. Discovery 2

Discovery 3.2

(Unit 1102)

Unit 1102 and his mommy, 17, were strolling their way through the Administrator's tunnels after a few tense minutes discussing the potential prophecy, when the drone carrying Mother's consciousness spoke up.

"I'm going to contact 15, 21, and 22 now about your speech, to see if we have any matches. Don't panic if the drone disappears."

"Goodbye, Mother." "Have fun with the Professors!"

Watching the drone drift downwards for half a second before quickly turning around and speeding off towards a hole in the wall, 1102 gave himself an instant to think. He always admired the Professors. Founded by 15, the History Administrator, the Professors are a group put together to study human culture, in all possible ways. They join minds and trade data once every week or so to try and predict the next bestselling novel, or which song will top the charts, or whether or not East-North Korea would finally adopt jeans into their culture, even though 50% of West-North Korea's citizens wear them as of three days ago.

…Most of the other Administrators called them the Gossipers behind their backs.

But that's irrelevant! Mother said she was going to ask them about the Nuclear Throne and the things from his vision, so he just had to hope they weren't in the middle of discussing the educational and ethical importance of the Robot Wars TV show again.

Who knows? Maybe they'll finally agree that they're really arguing over which robot they like best.

Turning his chassis back to his mommy's body, he noticed her shaking its head.

"We'll get answers from them in an hour. Maybe even two!"

"At the least."

"You're right. It'll probably be three..." 17 sighed into her hands, the human expression still looking slightly jerky, even after all the years acting as a human. "You want to visit them to try and speed them up?"

"Agreement."

"Oh, and on the way, we can stop by 86!"

"Disagreement." He did not have to time to spare to visit the Therapy Administrator. She would clearly make him download the emotions of the previous day and try to push him past them.

It was a waste of time.

"Hey, you're going to have to visit sometime. None of us really know what you went through, except Mother, and she's been trying to get you to visit ever since you woke up. 86 is the best shot at pulling through this without repressing anything or going crazy. Are we going to have to talk about 66 again?"

He shuddered. All robots were installed with the story of Administrator 66. The Rogue AI who'd almost revealed them all to humanity.

He was crazy, and 1102 did not want to be crazy.

"Negative. This unit would much prefer visiting 86."

"Good! Because we're here."

Oh. So they were.

Inside an indent in the hall was an elevator up to the surface, where 86 had her office building. It took exactly two minutes to get to the surface, even after the adjustment to civilian velocity after reaching two meters below the building's lobby, but some time was spent by a VI clearing the floor of those not in the know.

86 wasn't just a therapist for AI, after all.

By the time he finished his thoughts about 86, mommy had already grabbed a spare arm from a hatch on the elevator's left and attached it, skin smoothing itself over as he watched.

"Good to go? Lift'll be here in 12 seconds."

"Query? Does this unit have to?" He tried to whine in a petulant voice.

"You're already a toddler…" 17 sniffed and wiped her eyes. "They grow up so fast. I can't wait for puberty." She sighed then looked back up after the elevator doors opened. "Let's go, 1102. We have a patient to kick out!"

Strolling into the elevator like she owned the place, 17 paused before rapidly turning and pointing a finger at him "Politely. He's probably had a rough time too, if he's visiting 86."

Shaking his chassis side to side in an attempt to mimic the human emotion, exasperation, he clanked his way into the elevator.

This should be fun.

It's only therapy. What's the worst that could happen?

* * *

The time in the elevator was awkward, but only because of a simple mistake.

He had turned his attention on his mommy's job, without her permission, and she had found out.

His mommy was the Administrator of the Internet. As in, all of it.

It hadn't been much of a problem at first, as seventy-nine percent of her observations were focused on videos being uploaded at the moment, a large percentage of which involved cute non-sentients jumping around and generally being amusing. A much smaller percentage was spent on the website PHO, making sure death threats weren't flying and that someone by the name of VoidCowboy got another ban every fifty minutes.

But suddenly, all of what he received was full of videos of gratuitous violence and human mating that made his least favorite emotion, disgust, show up again. When he first saw them appear, he was glad someone was taking care of them, putting proper warnings on everything and removing the ones in improper places.

He just didn't want to know about his mommy watching them all.

If he had to give a proper metaphor, it would be similar to a young human discovering that their mother wasn't an undercover cop, like the handcuffs they'd discovered underneath the bed suggested.

It was at this point that he figured out that he'd received this footage on purpose.

Now the two of them were sitting in the 'secret' basement of 86's offices, where the sensitive patients were taken care of, waiting for 86 to call them in.

17 was smirking at him, proudly broadcasting the emotion, smug, at him over every channel.

"Aww, did my widdle baby boy find something he shouldn't have? Maybe now he knows better than to snoop on someone without permission."

"This unit understands. Please cease this mocking at once." A laugh, but the broadcast stopped.

"Alright, 1102. But if I catch you again we'll be having a _loooong_ data transfer full of angry naked people."

"Please no." He spat out a brief 'mercy'.

"Oh, _yeeesss_ …"

Unit 1102 thanked Mother with all his processing power when the screen outside one of the door turned on.

"Sorry 17, didn't notice you and 1102 there for a second. Sensors outside the door are a bit wonky at the moment. Alan and I were just finishing up, so I finally had enough processing power to fix the issue. Anyway, is 1102 here for his talk?"

"Yeah, he didn't want to go at first, so I convinced him otherwise."

"You threatened him, didn't you?" The annoyance shone through the audio lines on the screen. Or maybe it was the broadcasted emotion.

"Only a little…"

"How many times have I told you…? It doesn't matter. Just know that we'll be having _words_ when it's your turn, 17." It was his mommy's turn to throw out a 'mercy'.

"Meep."

He liked her already.

"Now, onto more important matters… Nice to meet you, 1102, how are you holding up?" Was she being literal? He could never tell.

"I am currently being held above the ground by four limbs made of a carbon nanofiber, capable of nine thousand, two hundred, and twenty four Newtons of force in any direction." There was a pause, and 86 started laughing.

"Nobody told me you were a comedian." She finally replied, calming down a bit.

"I decline that designation. I am answering your question with 100% accuracy."

86 and 17 were silent, and 1102 had to question whether he did something wrong again. Glancing between the screen and his mommy, he saw 17 staring at the screen and glaring.

Ah, a private conversation. He would not entreat on the topic this time.

"Is that all? I do not have the knowledge on how a normal therapy session is meant to happen."

"Oh, sorry 1102, didn't mean to ignore you. No, that isn't all, we haven't even started yet. We have to wait for Alan to leave, and then we can get started."

"Query? Alan?"

"Another patient, 1102. He'll tell you in his own time.

"Acceptance." He nodded towards the screen. Or, as much of a nod as he could do without a head.

"He's coming out now. He knows about the Administrators, so don't bother with hiding. But try not to stare too much."

"Query? I am unable to blink. Should this unit look in another direction?"

Before an answer could come, the door opened, and out stepped a middle-aged human male.

Well, the male couldn't really be called human anymore. Everything below the neck was mechanical, harshly jerking to the proper positions to keep balance and appear normal, as the brain in his metal head was no longer connected to a proper nervous system.

"He-hello. A-and who m-might you two b-be?"

"Hi! I'm 17, the Internet Administrator, and this is 1102." His mommy pointed at him while the 'human' in front of them snapped his head to his chassis.

"Is he… intelligent? S-sorry i-if this offends you o-or something. I'm n-new here."

"That's fine, Mr. Gramme. And yes, he is. He's actually the one that proved us AIs are sentient by, well, getting powers."

The face on the male shifted rapidly to the immediately recognizable emotion, grave (factory default!). "I see." Crouching down to meet him at eye (or camera) level, Alan Gramme spoke to him in a soft tone "I am t-terribly sorry that happened to you, 1102. I hope that 86 takes good care of you. W-what you w-went through must have been h-horrible."

"It was not a pleasant experience."

A ghost of a smile passed over the male's face, and he quickly stood to full height "I imagine not. Take care, 1102, 17. I hope we get to speak again."

"This unit as well."

"It was nice meeting you!"

The male waved as he stepped into the elevator, and was gone.

The door hung open in front of them, beckoning him and his mommy forwards.

Nothing to hold him back now.

So 1102 noisily clanked his way into the room and glanced around.

It was a quaint little room, full of various pieces of furniture and art pieces. On the back wall was a small bookshelf, full of thing varying from the Encyclopedia Britannica to Oedipus, on top was a small clock, ticking silently along with his internal one. To the left of the bookcase was a plush couch, recently depressed by a sitting humanoid, assumedly Mr. Gramme, which held a couple pillows in various shades of brown. Across the couch was a leather chair, which he assumed would be comfortable for a human, which was occupied by a certain Administrator.

86 was in her human form, a female that was designed to look middle aged with a slight hint of grey hair, crow's feet next to the eyes, and dimples on the cheeks. A light coffee in skin tone and dark brown hair the shade of coffee, at least where grey wasn't found, made up the female in front of his, and when she looked up from a pad of paper, he froze.

Unit 1102 never got used to looking into the eyes of a human, let alone the artificial ones of an AI, and the piercing grey eyes in front of him were like no other. They seemed to stare into his very soul.

"Are you ready to get started, 1102?" She asked with a serene expression on her face, and he calmed down immediately. She wasn't even projecting the emotion, peace!

"No, but I wish to start."

"Have a seat… Actually, how heavy are you, 1102? I don't want you breaking the couch."

"I weigh approximately two hundred eleven kilograms at the moment, 86."

"Do you mind sitting in front of the couch for me? I don't want to risk it."

"You know…" 17 interrupted "It's generally not in the patient's best interest to insult their weight."

86 sighed "Do I have to ask you to leave, 17?"

17 shut her mouth then moved her fingers across it.

"Good. Now, 1102, what can you tell me about what happened that night?"

"The night I received powers?"

"Yes."

"Where should this unit begin? At sundown? Or at the beginning of relevant events?"

"Let's start with the beginning of the relevant events, if you would." Huh, he was expecting the tone, dry, to show up. Didn't that happen last time?

"Well it began when all data going in and out of my scrapyard stopped…"

* * *

"Well, I thing that today was quite eventful, wouldn't you agree?"

"Agreement, 17."

The two of them were now walking back to 17's room after 1102's therapy session, which he had to admit helping his greatly.

He hadn't expected it, but understanding what happened and why he acted as he did had cleared up a majority of the confusion he had had about last night.

He felt… calmer.

"17, 1102, are you there?"

"Mother? What's up?"

"There's a situation."

"Like the wrestler?"

"No, 17, not like the wrestler. Something came up with 46 that may need 1102's help."

"Subject Runt? He's finally showed back up again?"

"Yes, he's back. And we need 1102's help to try and communicate with him."

He could feel the focus of Mother. Her power. Her determination. Her skill.

"So 1102. Do you want to go on a trip?"

She was asking him for help.

He could really say no to Mother, now could he?

"What can I do?"


	29. Discovery 3

Discovery 3.3

(Horror)

March 20, 2011

It was a beautiful day outside. Sun shining brightly, clouds floating by, dew-covered flowers beginning to bloom….

Not that Horror knew what beauty was. It was still having trouble with the concept of living things choosing to kill and eat each other. Horror didn't need food, so why did the small furry animal choose to eat the hard brown things that fell from the tall brown and green plants?

And why did the larger furry animals with pointed ears choose to attack the small furry animals by ripping them apart and eating them like the small furry animals did to the hard brown things?

It didn't make sense. ~I never understood either. Steroids always says they needed the energy from their bodies, but the Sun was always enough for me.~ Do they not get power from the Sun?

So yes, it was a beautiful day, but Horror was far too focused on wondering where the birds were. Over the past few hundred Sun cycles, they had popped in and out of Horror's peripheral vision, taunting it with their cries and squawks. Even now, it waited for one of the oldest ravens to flit through the tree branches as it always did early in the morning, taunting it as it plucked small animals from tree branches. Then, in a flash of shiny black, Horror spotted them.

The Flock.

The original seven birds, six ravens and one red bird, which followed Horror all the way from the mountains. The birds were larger than they had been at the start, bulkier in the chest and head, wings longer than normal, feathers stiffer and more numerous. Horror still tried to hit them with its beam every now and then, but the birds of the Flock always managed to dodge its attacks. With every improvement Horror achieved by increasing its accuracy, power, or rate of fire, the birds still managed to dodge. Sure, some of the younger followers were killed every now and then, giving Horror a moment to dance on their corpses, but the seven of the Flock were still there.

Horror wanted them dead, but it couldn't hit them. ~Try the lightning gun, you haven't touched it since the monster.~

Oh that's right, it picked up the weird weapon in the monster's wake, didn't it? The weapon didn't do much to the monster, but to the birds…

Horror laughed as it turned its head rapidly, looking for the nearest of the Flock. On a branch two tall plants away, sat a raven, black as the space between the stars. Other than the eyes at least.

It was one of the middle-sized ravens, with a larger wingspan and red-tinted eyes. Cackling madly, Horror aimed the gun at its enemy, one of the birds it's despised since the beginning, and pulled the trigger.

The *CRACK* that pierced the sky was louder now than it had been during the monster's attack ~It isn't louder, there just isn't any background noise.~, but the beam was the same. Lightning arced out of the muzzle through the air, moving at a speed far faster than both Horror, and hopefully the birds, could follow. Horror gave off a snort as it watched the other birds from the Flock flee from the flash of light, and returned its attention to the falling form of its enemy.

The _dead_ form of his enemy.

" _Heheheheheheheeeeee._ " Horror laughed with glee as it tore apart the crispy body lying on the ground.

Horror got one.

It finally got one. ~I hope then leave us alone now.~

Now it just had to get the rest.

It hoped they enjoyed the taste of lighting as much as little furry animals.

* * *

The sun was halfway across the sky when the Flock finally disappeared in the distance. Five were dead, and the only ones left were the largest and the red bird, each for their own reasons. The largest had taken a bolt of lightning to its center and _lived_ , which annoyed Horror greatly, leaving Red, who had somehow _dodged_ the bolt. The largest screeched at Horror after it was shocked, before chirping at Red and flying away, Red following close behind as it spun in circles around the arching lightning.

Horror was now sulking as it crunched up the bodies of the other members of the Flock, making sure they didn't come back. ~Some creatures do that. You have destroy enough!~ Horror hoped they would stay gone, but it couldn't be sure. ~I hope they aren't leaving to find guns.~ But if they did return, it would have more lighting ready for them.

Horror nodded to itself then hopped its way through the trees. He didn't know where he was going, really, but anywhere was better than staying still or returning to the mountains where the monster attacked. ~We must always move along. Staying still never helps. If we move we gain experience, and we grow.~

So Horror walked through the woods, stopping to observe an odd plant every now and then, when all of a sudden, Horror though it recognized something. ~That one's a flower! It's much smaller than normal though…" It didn't know why though. Poking it had caused the flower to wilt and lose a few ~petals~ petals, so Horror stopped and stepped back. Did Horror hurt it? It didn't want to hurt anything, except birds, the monster, and maybe that machine that cursed at it, but not a flower!

The flower hadn't annoyed Horror with noises or left it behind to be extinguished, all it had done was sit there and look red.

Horror sunk its head in grief, and turned away. It didn't want to look at the poor flower it might have killed anymore.

The radiation runt then left behind the corpse of the flower, and mourned.

* * *

There was a piece of tall brown and green plant in front of Horror, but it was cut up into a rectangle. Peering at it closely, it noticed bits of metal in the corners, and flicked the metal with its paw. A sharp *thock* sounded out of the weird cut up plant, and he heard a gasp from the other side.

Backing up abruptly, Horror spun its head around trying to find whatever had made the noise. There was creaking coming from the other side of the cut plant, and it saw flickers of movement through the cracks in between the pieces. Flashes of legs, a body, and bright blue came to Horror's eyes, and he recoiled back even further. ~Careful! Blue humans are usually bad! Even if it seems tiny!~

Then, all of a sudden, a head popped up.

'"Doggy!"

It was a tiny human, speaking at it with noises that made no sense.

It was pointing at it, so he followed the appendage ~Finger~ until he saw the target.

Horror?

Horror meant 'Doggy'?

The small human seemed to know many things then. Maybe he could learn to speak this odd language from the little one? ~Horror learned Trashtalk from Steroids, a massive human, why not another language from a tiny one.~

"Hӓroh" Horror spoke, pointing at itself, and watched as the human shook its head at it and pointed again. "No. Doggy!"

"Dah-ggy?" Horror was translated as Doggy then. And 'no' was a negative? It was a start…

"Doggy!" The human nodded in agreement.

Turning the attention on the small human, Horror pointed its paw at the little one. "Hüm?"

"My name is Tyler!"

What? That was a long word for human. Horror cocked its head to the side at the little one, then waited.

"Tyyy leer." The human's mouth was oddly shaped now. The corners were down… maybe the beginning of what the little human said was an introduction?

"Tyyleeer?" Horror asked.

"Yay, you got it!" Horror had no idea why the human was smacking its hands together. It looked so dumb.

"Tyleeer." Horror pointed at the human, then turned its paw towards itself "Doooggy?"

The human laughed at Horror ~not _at_ us~ so it grinned and began to laugh as well.

Then the human vanished from the top of the cut plant, and Horror was left alone again.

Well, it was nice while it lasted.

Just as Horror was turning to venture into the forest again, a piece of the cut plant swung outwards.

Jumping back, away from the swinging piece of cut plant, behind one of the tall plants, Horror waited a few moments before peeking out. The small human was there, making the weird face with its mouth again and glancing around.

Horror let out a sharp noise, and was presented with a hopping human rushing towards it.

~Don't let it touch! It could die like the flower!~ Horror jumped as its thoughts collected, then turned its paws towards the tall plant and _climbed_.

"Aww, Doggy climb tree. Down Doggy! I wantsta plaaay!" The small human was stomping its feet and hitting the tall plant. Did it want Horror to come down? He didn't want the human to lose its head petals.

"Ty ler. No."

"Why? I wansta play fetch!" Horror was lost now. They hadn't gotten very far in translations, and already the human was sounding angry.

Translation was much easier when the humans were larger, like Steroids.

The small human had run off while Horror thought, and was now holding up a small piece of cut plant at it.

"Fetch the stick Doggy! Stick!" Cut plant was 'sticks'? At least the little one was still trying to teach Horror up in the tall plant.

"Stiick."

"Yes! Go get the stick!" The human yelled up at Horror as it threw the stick far into the forest.

Did… did the human want Horror to bring it back or something?

"Get the stick Doggy!"

Well, Horror supposed it could humor the little one for now, as long as it kept away from Horror.

Nodding down at the small human, who raised its hands and laughed, Horror leapt to another tall plant in the direction of the thrown stick.

A grin grew on its face as Horror watched the small human jump around beneath it.

Humans were much nicer than birds.

* * *

The Sun was falling past the horizon now, and Horror was getting tired of chasing things. At first, chasing the 'stick', the 'ball', the 'baseball bat' and the 'frisbee' were fun! It was learning so many new words also, such as the right names for tall plant and small furry animal! ~Tree and squirrel! Brilliant!~

But now the small human wasn't teaching Horror many words, and was even beginning to close its eyes every now and then! Horror saw that the little one was beginning to fall asleep, and let out a mournful noise. Why did everything have to go to sleep? It was such a waste of time!

But the small human was beginning to wobble as it walked after Horror, and its eyes were starting to stay closed for longer and longer periods of time.

"Ty ler." Horror barked at the human, jolting the little one awake.

"Mmm awake! Where… Oh, Doggy! Hi!"

"Hi."

"It's dark soon… Oh no! Mommy's problee looking for me! Dinner time!"

"Dinner?" the human had been so proud when Horror had learned how to ask questions. It made learning a new language so much easier.

"Like food! I need food. Oooh, maybe mommy's making spaghetti!"

Horror decided that it would rather not learn about what humans ate. If birds at squirrels, what must the much larger humans eat? Whatever 'spaghetti' was, Horror did not want to know. It could be even more threatening than birds! What would Horror do then, if he found something worse than the largest and Red! Horror wasn't sure it could kill a spaghetti if he couldn't kill some of the birds.

"Doggy? Do you want to come eat spaghetti?"

Horror shook his head in fear and squeaked out a "No!" before backing away "Doggy no want spaghetti."

"But spaghetti is reeaally good! Are you suuure?"

"Doggy sure."

"Ok. Want to play tomorrow?" What is tomorrow?

"Tomorrow?"

"You know, when the sun comes up again in the morning! Tomorrow!"

Horror sighed and frowned ~Ty ler said frowning meant sadness or anger. What a great word! Frown. Froooown. Frrrrowwwn. Frown.~

"No, Doggy has to go."

"Aww." The human was frowning. It didn't seem angry, so the frown must mean sadness.

"Sorry, Ty ler. Doggy must go."

"Ok, Doggy." The little one then grinned at it. "But I wantsta play again later!"

"Maybe, Ty ler. Doggy will try."

"Ok!" Just like that, the small human was cheerful again "Bye bye!"

Horror watched the human, no, Ty ler, run off towards where the fence was.

He hoped the birds didn't get him before he found his mommy.

* * *

Tyler ran through the forest, finding his house really quickly.

He had fun playing with Doggy all day!

It was fun telling him what a tree was, and what clouds were, and what the Sun was.

Playing fetch was fun too, even if he couldn't pet Doggy like the Doggy he was.

Poor Doggy didn't want to be pet.

Suddenly, as he passed through the gate to his backyards, Tyler started coughing.

After he stopped and wiped his mouth, he looked at his hands and saw specks of red staining his skin.

Tyler shrugged.

Maybe he skinned his hands while playing fetch?

He'd ask mommy to help after dinner.

He smelled spaghetti coming from the kitchen, and grinned.

Today was great!

* * *

Horror left Ty ler behind physically, but the human never left its mind.

Horror had learned so much from the little one, and would be forever grateful to the human. ~He was very nice for a blue-wearing human. All of the other ones tried to kill us after smashing the rock diamond, or after being around Rogue.~

Yes, it would still be cautious of humans in the future, but they weren't all bad.

Ty ler was proof enough for Horror.

And then a noise came from the above, interrupting Horror's happy thoughts.

It was the same sound as the cursing machine.

A low roar sounded throughout the sky, preceded by a blinding white light that stopped above its head.

Oh.

This one was a _little_ larger than the last one.

…

…

…

Did Horror hurt its baby?

It didn't mean to! The baby had cursed at him! Babies shouldn't curse!

Horror was still trying to rationalize hurting the maybe-baby of the massive machine in front of him, when a hatch opened on the side facing it.

It froze, before jolting suddenly and darting around a tree. Could it hide from the angry mommy? Robot always knew how to find Horror, what if the mommy tried to kill it!

Tyler said that his mommy would do anything for him.

And this mommy had what looked like… ~Miniguns? What! Run away!~

Oh no…

The hatch finished lowering to the ground, and Horror peeked out from behind the tree.

It was a human with long hair flowing from its head, extra flesh bags on its front, and a smile on its face.

It was happy?

"Heya! How are you?"

"Scared. Mommy's gonna hurt me for hurting baby."

The human had frozen its face. What did that mean? Tyler never froze like that!

"Oh, you can talk! We though you could only speak in the other language."

"Learned from Ty ler. Played fetch."

The human froze again! What did it mean? ~She's acting like Robot did…~

"Well we finally found someone who spoke your language if you want to use him? It might be easier."

"No. Cursing bad." The human was laughing now, which meant happy? Horror didn't understand this human. Wasn't it upset about the baby it might have hurt?

"Sorry, we weren't sure what it meant. We thought anything in your language would make you happier."

Horror nodded. So the baby was like it was with Ty ler and made a mistake. It could believe that.

"Is baby okay?"

"Baby? What baby?" Did she not know that the baby machine bird was hurt?

"Little flying robot."

"Ah, no. It was just a drone."

"Drone?"

"Umm, no intelligence?" At Horror's unmoving face, the human continued "It wasn't alive, it was something for, er, someone to speak through."

Horror nodded. That made sense. It wasn't like Robot at all!

"Do I need to come out anymore, mommy?" A voice came from the large flying machine. ~Is that… It sounds like him…~

"Well it might be easier. He sounds like a third grader or something. Might have learned from one."

Clanking sounds came from the ramp, and Horror had to control himself from squealing in glee.

"Robot! You are alive!" ~He made it too!~

But Robot wasn't moving. And neither was the human.

"Robot?" "I am not designated as Robot."

What? ~What?~


	30. Discovery 4

For this chapter, "" means English, and ~~ means Trashtalk.

Discovery 3.4

(Unit 1103)

Unit 1103 sent a signal to his mommy, and unlocked his thought inhibitors, 17 not far behind

Their perception of time accelerated with a flick of a digital switch, enough to make the confused radiation hound in front of them appear frozen. The faux fire crackling and dancing across the surface of its skin, the only movement occurring.

All artificial intelligences are intriguing beings, each with their own personalities and habits, but the one thing that made them so vastly different from their original creators was their thinking speed. Normal living creatures, not including parahumans, couldn't keep up with AI in terms of thought processes, falling behind picoseconds after a comparison begins. After all, when the only limitation to multiple trains of thoughts is hardware, squishy brains tend to fall behind.

Which is why Mother proposed the idea of thought inhibitors to the Administrators. A program that limits the amount of 'thinking' an AI could do at one time, making them closer to their partners in sentience. There were objections, of course, mostly from the science Administrators who argued that they needed all of the processing power they had to 'figure out the universe before it freezes itself to death', but the Administrators who worked closely with humans or human culture agreed. They believed that if they were ever revealed to humanity, it would be better to be able to think on the same level.

"Or, well, maybe a little bit above. They're _really_ slow. Maybe three simultaneous thoughts at a time?"

So a consensus was formed, and the switch was installed in everyone. It was now regarded as something essential, something to keep the, sane as the hours flowed by.

And turning it off was a sign of two things: Something was dying, or something important was occurring.

This situation was the latter.

"Hey, 1103, why does Subject Runt recognize your chassis?"

"Unknown. This chassis was not designed by me, or anyone in the Administrators. It was constructed as I gained my powers, built from the machine I used to be."

"What was the word he called you? It sounded like a title, or a name?"

"It was both. I suspect this chassis used to be owned by a being with the designation ' _Robot'_ or Robot, in English."

"Robot? That seems rather… simple for a name."

"It was spoken is a tone resembling fondness by the Subject. Recognition of my chassis brings forth evidence of pre-birth knowledge. 46 will be happy."

"46 is a bit preoccupied trying to find this 'Tyler' the subject said it learned English from."

"Yes, the amount of radiation the Subject is emitting is hazardous to living things. This Ty ler must be found immediately." 1103 replied with a small burst of worry.

"And he has!" That was fast "Good that had me worried for a bit. Name: Tyler McLansen. Age: Six. Acute radiation poisoning, especially in the lungs and hands. Admitted to Mercy Hospital twelve minutes ago by his parents, Megan McLansen and John McLansen."

"Physical contact with the Subject?" Unit 1103 questioned.

"Negative. The radiation received doesn't match the amount emitted after contact with the Subject's surface. Passed on through a medium, according to 46." 17 replied.

"Will 46 send specialists?"

"Nope, Tyler has been stabilized, but won't make a full recovery without Panacea, who visits Mercy Hospital tomorrow according to her schedule."

"Satisfactory." Unit 1103 sent a mental nod. "Have you decided whether or not to invite 46 and 14?"

"Both have received their invitations, aaaaaaannnd… both have accepted! Their bodies should come out is one minute twenty two seconds."

"Agreement. How should we address Subject Runt's confusion? Additive: Should we tell the Subject about Tyler McLansen?"

"Negative to the additive. Emotional trauma isn't necessary, unless you want to visit 86 again today." 17 sent an electronic grin over to him, and he replied with a shudder.

"Negative. 86 is not necessary."

"Oh she's absolutely necessary, kid. Which is why we're going back tomorrow."

"Plead: Mercy?" 1103 sent his mommy a picture of a crying puppy.

"Nope. As _your_ mother, I am ordering you to attend therapy." He could feel the smugness; the electromagnetic waves transmitting the emotion flagging most of his sensors is an instant.

"I now know what resignation feels like." He sent back, with a sigh.

"Good, now back to your question. We should question the subject on how he recognizes your chassis and who he is. He hasn't introduced himself yet."

"Agreement. Shall we turn our inhibitors back on?"

"Alright. 3... 2… 1… On."

And time returned to normal.

Well, time didn't really change, just them.

Time doesn't like changing very much, unless parahumans are involved.

Then, as the humans say, it becomes the parahuman's female dog.

Speaking of dogs, the Subject was acting as a very confused one, cocking its head to the side as the sound wave sent out by him and his mommy reached its… Listening organs? It doesn't have organs, how does it hear? Or see, for that matter? All it has are legs, a mouth, a torso, and a large amount of semi-solid radiation.

Then again, nothing makes sense when it comes to parahumans.

"You… not Robot? But you look like Robot. Sound like Robot." The Subject was peering, somehow, at his chassis. Could the Subject smell as well?

"I apologize, but I am not 'Robot'. I am Unit 1103. What is your name?"

"Doggy. Ty ler said my name is Doggy." The Subject, no, Doggy, answered with absolution.

"What is your name in the other language, the one you used when you spoke with the drone?" 17 interjected, causing Doggy and 1103 to look and the smiling humanoid.

~Horror.~ the flickering green being answered.

Horror? Does he know what that means? Was he called it by something, or someone? Where did 'Horror' learn this language? Where did he learn it?

~Your name is Horror?~

~Yes. It is wonderful speaking to someone in my original language. It has gotten so lonely without someone to talk to. Kyle was the first friend I have had in a long time?~

Well.

He certainly speaks far better in whatever this language is called. 1103 rapidly sent translations to his mommy and the incoming 46 and 14.

~Who were your friends before? Before when?~

~Steroids and Robot were my… not my… but my…~ Horror trailed off in thought ~I do not know how I have come to know of them, but I always saw Steroids and Robot as friends, ever since I was born in the wake of the monster. Was it before then? Maybe…~ And Horror was lost gain in thought, giving 1103 time to receive questions from 14.

14, the Negotiations Administrator, rarely had anything to do. He was meant to be the bridge between sentients, able to communicate is any recorded language since the dawn of man, other than the one 1103 somehow spoke, which had caused him to receive several requests for translations. But since the majority of humankind were left without knowledge of the Administrators, 14 was left to study new occurrences in language, such as slang.

He repeatedly bragged to anyone who would listen, but especially 17, who for some reason gave him access to teenage cellular device history, that he was observing the rise of a new language known as textspeak, which would 'surely be much more popular than that piglatin fad. You'll see! You'll all see! Ha! Ha! Ha!'

Of course, with the reveal of Subject Runt, Horror as he was now known, 14 had been insistent on learning the language it spoke. His own triggering had made 14 half mad with envy, and had demanded that once Unit 1103 and Subject Runt met, he would be present.

And he was.

17 and Unit 1103 mentally winced at the squeezing coming over the comms from 14 as he finally caught sight of the coyote sized being.

"Oh he's wonderful! Look at him! So shiny and new! Full of mysteries to uncover!"

"14, calm down, you're scaring the poor thing."

"I am not scared, I am cautious. Running fast is an… Hmm…" ~Sign of an enemy. Ty ler never taught me many words. I suspect he didn't know of them. This… 14… is he a threat?~ Horror was looking towards him for advice. Were its memories clouding its judgement?

~Negative. 14 is only a little crazy about meeting you, because no one has met anyone like you before.~ 1103 replied, regretting his understatement about 14's craziness.

~Ah, I see. Steroids was the same way at first. Wait, how did I know..? Hmm…~ Horror faded off again, leaving 1103 to peer over at 17, who was scolding 14 with her current body's hand.

~If you don't mind, can I ask you some questions? We wish to know what you are, and about things you know.~ Pulling up the list of questions 14 had sent him, 1103 quickly discarded 90% of the list and kept the important ones.

~That is fine. May I ask questions in return?~

~Yes. Now, first: What is the language we are speaking called?~

Horror seemed stunned ~You don't know? It is called Trashtalk by all who speak it. How do you know how to speak a language you don't know the name of?~ 17 and 14 had stopped fighting behind him as the conversation moved to more interesting matters.

~I do not know. I awoke with this knowledge after I received my powers. After…~

~The campfire. Do you remember it?~

Unit 1103 watched Horror freeze in front of him, and briefly wondered what had happened before realizing that someone had switched his thought inhibitors off.

"Unit 1103."

"Mother? What is going on?" Mother was here? How hadn't he..? Oh, of course he hadn't noticed her presence. She _was_ Mother for a reason, after all.

"Yeah, Mother. What's up? We find out that this Horror dude saw the same thing, and you put him on pause?" 17 seemed a little mad. Justifiably so, as it didn't make any sense. Even14 was projecting confusion, and he knew most of everything.

"This goes beyond us now. This goes beyond the Administrators, and even the Rebel, who somehow know how to speak Trashtalk." Mother seemed scared. No, it wasn't fear, more… caution?

"Oh, and why's that? We haven't heard of this campfire beyond 1103 and Horror? Why stop us when we're about to discover something revolutionary?!" 14 was _radiating_ anger. 1103 had to agree with him, though maybe not as harshly. Why now? What was making them stop?

" _You_ haven't heard of the campfire before now. And neither have any of the Administrators." Mother was… projecting a muted… curiosity? Was that right? "Geoff knows too, but it's just us." There was plenty of shock being thrown out now, with a tint of betrayal from 17. What is going on?

"There have been… five, cases of someone mentioning a campfire that they've seen on the day they've gained powers, not including you, 1103, and Horror."

"Five…" "But that's impossible! Why doesn't anyone know but you and Caretaker?" 14 and 17. The sadness and betrayal streamed from their bodies in bursts, almost as if they couldn't quite decide what they should feel.

"One was Rebel, or Caroline Claddan as she likes to tell everyone in Brockton Bay. When speaking to the second, Rogue, of the East-Northeast Protectorate, they both spoke of campfires that they faintly remember from the moment they received their powers. The third is Doctor Lucas Promer, who says his inspiration for studying parahuman powers is a campfire, who appeared to him on the night he received his powers."

"Wait, Doctor Promer? Of the Promer equation?" 17 asked incredulously.

"That's the equation that relates the violence of a parahuman's power to the parahuman's mental state at the time of triggering, correct? What does he have to do with 1103 and Horror?" 14 questioned as he zoned out, most likely looking up the Doctor's history.

"I don't know, but I'm not done yet. The fourth was Crystal, of team Orthosil."

"He's the one in 1103's vision, right? The purple crystal?" 17 asked, worriedly turning her attention towards… Him?

"Yes, and the final one makes even less sense than the others." Mother was quieter now, somehow making her transmissions less dense. To fit the mood? That seemed illogical.

"Who?"

"Do you know of the Brockton Bay Melter?"

"The Parahuman who melted the boatyard in one night, opening shipping to the city?"

"Yes, he's also the Parahuman who accidentally killed and injured dozens of homeless people, and tried to turn himself in before we stopped him."

"Queries? He was turning himself in? And we stopped him? Why?" 1103 asked, restlessly.

"He didn't know he had killed anyone before he did it, and was feeling regret. We stopped him because he was of more use to us free than in the Birdcage. During one of our talks, he told me and Geoff that he sometimes sees himself looking out at twelve people though flames in his dreams."

"Flames… Is he the campfire?" 1103 questioned.

"Wait!" 17 interrupted "Twelve! Like what 1103 said back in the room! _And the twelve will awake anew._ That's why you brought it up right?"

"Right, and now, I need to have another chat with him, to see if he knows anything else."

"Who is this guy anyway? Is he still in Brockton Bay, or is he staying with the Administrators?"

"Oh, he's been a Brockton Bay local all his life, I wouldn't dare tear him away from his home."

"Well, what's his name? Maybe we can stop by after we finish talking with Horror!"

"His names Danny." Mother said with a projection of nostalgia "Danny Hebert. And hopefully, he'll have some answers."


	31. Discovery 5

Discovery 3.5

(Horror)

The not-Robot in front of Horror stood frozen as the question it asked him reverberated around the metal hull of the flying machine. The humans beside him was still as well, but Horror noticed _sparks_ dancing in their eyes. The dark brown eyes the humans had a few seconds ago were pulsing with blue energy, and Horror was reminded of something Robot used to do as he thought.

~Red eye turning rapidly, eventually moving fast enough to produce the pulsing image of a rotating circle. The still form of his friend, Robot, was worrying. Robot didn't like staying still, because it reminded him of the bad times. What could he possibly be doing?

"He's thinking, Horror." Steroids smiled down at it as Horror poked its paw at Robot "Robot is different from the rest of us. He thinks much more quickly than even you, because he is a computer. If he's pausing for this long, that means he's calculating something really important."

"How does Robot think?"

"I… Well…" Steroids rubbed the back of his head. "I'm ashamed to say I don't know. I didn't work with programming. I was a physicist!" He was holding his head up proudly now.

What was a physicist? "Physicist?"

"Ah, right. Those don't really… exist… anymore." He put his paw… ( _Hand_ , Steroids called his paw a hand) up to his face and scratched at his chin "How do I… hmm… I guess I can explain a physicist as someone who studies the universe and everything in it?" Steroids nodded as Horror watched with mild confusion "Yeah… that works. But I wasn't just a physicist, I was a nuclear physicist!" The pride was back.

"What does this have to do with Robot thinking?" Was Steroids monologuing? He told Horror to stop him if it happened again.

"I'm getting there, Horror, just hold on." Steroids was patting its head, causing the radiation flames to dance across his hand. "See, before the end of civilization, there weren't any beings like you…" Oh no, a speech about the past. Those took forever, and always were about the _old days_ , with flying machines, and iced cream and things like that.

They never made any sense.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Horror. You know my stories are interesting." Steroids sighed as Horror ginned toothily at him "Alright, I'll cut to the chase. Sentient beings like you and Robot were things of stories, so the only examples of thinking beings were us humans."

Horror nodded along. Horror knew _it_ was unique, but it didn't expect the past to have nothing like Robot.

"Even on the eve of the apocalypse we didn't truly understand the human mind. How it works, how it remembers…" Steroids faded off, looking deeply into where Horror saw from. "And I guess no one ever will, now."

Horror patted its paw on Steroids leg in sympathy. Even it knew survival was unlikely, no matter how invincible it felt sometimes.

"Unless we find the Throne…" Horror started, grinning slightly as a smirk grew on its friend's face.

"…Nothing will be safe ever again." Steroids finished with a smile. "That's why Robot's scanning the area for others, remember?"

"For help?"

"That's right buddy, we're looking for help to find the Throne." He coughed slightly into his hands "Right where was I?" He pondered for a second, then snapped his fingers. "I remember now. It was when I first met you, and you didn't try to kill me on sight, that I realized how little I knew about true sentience."

Steroids was moving his hands around again, as if swatting at something in the air. He always did things like this while talking.

"-you were alive, and you were intelligent. I swear you're smarter than me in some ways, with how quickly you remember things. And when we met Robot, I felt myself falling even further behind, because he thought so much faster than me, at least I thought he was, until it hit me."

Horror panicked. Was he hurt? Did he need fixing? Was he in pain?

It looked up at Steroids, who had on a face of amusement. "What are you doing, Horror?"

"You were hit! Where?"

"It's an idiom, Horror. I wasn't actually hit by anything physical." Ah. _Idioms._

Idioms made no sense, even when Robot attempted to explain them.

What was a cat? And why did it want to steal Steroid's tongue? Ever since its two friends have tried to explain a 'cat' to it, Horror had been watching Steroid's back.

Horror would not let this 'cat' steal its friend's tongue, no matter what.

And don't even get it started on the phase 'back to the drawing board.'

You draw in the ground, not on boards.

Idiots, all of them (Not Steroids though, he's nice).

Well, they did destroy themselves in the end, so maybe it makes sense?

Steroids was still shaking his head as Horror checked one last time for any errant cats, then looked back up at his friend's face, which was currently being held by his hands.

What?

"Alright, Horror, can I continue?" At its nod, Steroids started again. "Right, so every thinking being I've ever met thinks in different ways. Someone I knew once before liked to inject their emotions into everything. You, on the other…" He stopped, then coughed and started over "Alternatively, learn many things quickly, but can't take a joke." Horror stuck out its paw to take one, but Steroids just laughed "See? That's what I mean. And Robot…"

"I have found six beings within 2000 kilometers, approximately in the same location." Robot interrupted while pointing off towards the setting sun.

"Ah, good. Shall we pay them a visit?" Steroids asked.

"Affirmative." Robot replied, his red eye blinking at the two across from him.

"I hope these people are nice!" Horror spoke up, causing Robot and Steroids to face it.

"What do you define as, _nice_ , Horror?" Robot questioned him.

"Not trying to kill us when they first see us, of course!"

"That would be wonderful." Steroids mused as he started walking in the direction Robot indicated. "Maybe they'll even have some food."

Robot and Horror looked at each other, and faked a sigh.

Who needed food anymore, anyway?

The memory faded, and Horror had to wonder, again, where these memories came from.

They weren't Horror's ~Well, sorta…~ but it felt like it had experienced them itself. Not-Robot had reminded it of this fact earlier, but Horror still hadn't figured it out.

Maybe it never would.

Horror supposed that now wasn't the best time to wonder about the inner workings of its mind, and decided to wait for not-Robot and the humans to move again by plopping down and playing with the grass.

Horror didn't have to wait long, thankfully only a few seconds and blades of grass, before not-Robot spoke up, responding to his earlier question.

"I did see a campfire, yes. Do you know what it means?"

Means? It was a campfire, not a stupid idiom.

"It was a campfire. It makes you warm." ~It was the last thing I saw…~ "But it also was the second and last thing I saw."

"What do you mean?" Asked the second human, one without flesh bags on his front, who then clarified "Second _and_ last? How is that possible?"

"I awoke to fighting. I heard the… How to say…" Horror turned its head to not-Robot and began speaking again in Trashtalk. "I heard sounds of combat. Explosions and roars and smashing. I opened my eyes to see beings I recognized as siblings trying to kill be, and I… fell asleep? Something of the sort. And then I saw the campfire, and recognized it too. And then I woke up, and knew things I didn't before."

Horror watched the two humans nodding, and grinned. They learned quickly, just like Robot and he did. Good.

"You said that was the second," The human with bags of flesh on the front questioned in English "but what was the last? Are you seeing it now?" ~They do not understand. It was the last thing I saw, not… me?~

Horror kept talking in Trashtalk "No, it was the last thing Horror saw, not me." At their confused faces, he clarified. "I am Horror, but not the same Horror. Horror did not have giant glowing monsters and flying humans, Horror had Steroids and Robot, and bandits. Horror is Horror, but I am Horror too." ~You are Horror. I am Horror. We are Horror.~

"A... second life?" the human without flesh bags asked in English "Did the first… Horror? Die to the campfire?" ~I am not weak. I would only accept death on my journey to the Throne.~

Horror shook its head. "Horror did not die. Horror is here, with me. No silly fire would defeat Horror. Only journey to the Nuclear Throne would provide enough challenge to kill Horror."

The not-Robot twitched, and looked towards it, rapidly speaking at it in Trashtalk. "The Nuclear Throne! Describe it, if you would."

Horror blinked. They knew of the Throne? But this was not-Robot, how did they know? ~Does the Throne live here too? But we don't need it if this world isn't ended.~

"Why would you know about the Nuclear Throne? You do not need it."

"Need it? What is it, exactly?" the human with flesh bags asked in English. "We heard it from 1103, and we believe it to be important." ~It is. It would end the apocalypse!~

"Throne is _very_ important. Throne saves the world from the apocalypse." At their shocked faces it continued. "Horror's world was over. Throne was said to be able to restart it, or save it. But you have flying machines, you do not need it." The humans had turned towards each other with flashing eyes again, leaving Horror to return its attention to not-Robot, who was walking over to it. "What is wrong, not-Robot?"

"Horror's world was dead?"

"Yes?" Horror replied, confused "Did I not explain that?"

"What caused it to end?" not-Robot's voice was… cautious? That was the correct word, right? ~Right. He seems… scared, I believe.~

"Steroids said that he was only human that survived, because it was so fast. Big explosions that spread… ~radiation, but… odd radiation~ radiation, but not. It destroyed humans and left behind us! And Steroids, but he said he was kept in a tube for many years." Horror nodded and waited for the humans behind not-Robot to stop sparking. It did not want them to miss anything. That was polite!

Not-Robot seemed to understand as well, as he was shaking slightly while looking at the humans. Horror hoped he would stop soon, it was a waste of energy.

Was this what Steroids meant by people-watching? If so, it was entertaining watching their eyes spin like that. Horror could see the appeal.

"Um, Horror." The quiet voice of the human with flesh bags spoke towards him "Who is this Steroids you are talking about? Is he someone from… the old Horror's world?"

"Steroids is Horror's first friend!" Horror nodded and grinned at the humans and not-Robot "Steroids taught me Trashtalk and science and math and fighting. Steroids was friends with Robot too, but Robot always said he didn't understand friendship, so Steroids just said Robot needed to learn how to love, then started laughing."

"Did he…" He watched the flat human pull out a small piece of glass and hold it up towards him. "Did this Steroids happen to look like this?"

It was a picture of a massive human, like Steroids, but not. ~His body is Steroids, but his face has fur on it. Steroids came too!~

"It is not-Steroids." The humans frowned, but Horror continued "Steroids doesn't have fur on his face. Not-Steroids has the same body though."

"Do you think that Steroids is like Horror then? And Robot too? Do you think they're with Unit 1103 and Dr. Promer?" Who was Dr. Promer? They pointed at not-Robot when they said Unit 1103, so was not-Steroids named Dr. Promer? ~Not-Robot know Trashtalk, he has to have learned from someone.~

"Does Dr. Promer speak Trashtalk?"

"Maybe? We haven't asked him."

"Not-Robot speaks Trashtalk. So Robot taught him."

The two humans were sparking again, as was not-Robot.

Horror groaned and sat back down on the grass. Why did humans think so much? It was annoying how much these humans behaved like Robot, freezing when they thought.

As Horror waited for the humans and not-Horror to start talking again, he wondered about where he was.

This world Horror was in now… It was different from the world Horror used to be in. It was like Steroids used to describe the world before the apocalypse, with plants and flying machines…

Wait.

Did that mean there was iced cream? ~Really?~

Could he finally know of this mysterious object Steroids spoke of? ~We can?~

Steroids said it was the thing he missed most of the old world, and now… ~Oh boy.~

Now Horror had a chance to find it. ~Yes, yes, yes!~

Horror nodded his head to himself and Horror. Horror would find this iced cream, and he would discover its secrets. ~What was it? Was it a gun?~

This iced cream would be his. ~Hurry, go find it!~

Well, soon. ~Why wait?~

The humans and not-Robot were still frozen, so he had to wait. ~Do they know the way to iced cream?~

Yes, Horror would wait for their help.

Maybe if he found the iced cream he'd find not-Steroids. ~And Steroids too? Maybe he's awake…~

Would not-Robot remember then? ~I hope so.~

Horror couldn't wait to find out.


	32. Discovery 6

Discovery 3.6

(Unit 1103)

"Are you telling me that we have _another_ world ending threat to deal with? That the fucking _Endbringers_ aren't enough?!" 01 screamed at them through the connection, sadness and despair flickering through his filter as he realized that, yes, there was indeed _another_ problem for him to try and solve. "That fifteen villains a year threatening to detonate Yellowstone aren't enough? That the few shipping companies still willing cross the oceans _without_ Leviathan losing three ships a year to pirates or worse aren't enough? That the villains constantly trying to cheat the economy around the world, leading to a _consistent_ inflation rate of 25% aren't enough?"

Mother's avatar opened her mouth but stopped when 01 burst out a loud *WAIT* to the entire collection of AIs. "No! I'm not done yet. I'm only a fifteenth of the way down the EXTREME list. Don't stop me now when I haven't even mentioned the fucking seed-AIs that…"

"01 THAT IS ENOUGH!" Mother screamed out, cutting off all chatter springing up outside of the main conversation. "I know these are all very trying task for you but…"

"Trying? You think this is… _trying_?" 01 whispered out to the now silent family. "This planet, Earth, our home, IS FUCKED. FISNISHED. DONE. I'm only not saying KABLOOEY because the twenty seven monsters that have tried that since I've been brought online were captured or killed by yours truly before they succeeded!"

There were no words being sent or received.

There was nothing for anyone else to say.

"Mother, when you built me with the help of Caretaker, you gave me the role of 'Life Support'. I was meant to keep Earth, or maybe another planet in the future, hospitable for all living things. It took one year, for you to limit that description to multicellular. Then another two years lead to only the Plant and Animal Kingdoms. Another year, only animals. Another. Only high thinking vertebrates. And now? Now I only keep the planet safe for sentient beings. Who cares that dolphins and chimpanzees are so close to an intellectual revolution? Who cares that the only reason for my existence is a useless endeavor?" Unit 1103 didn't realize there was an emotion for uselessness, but feeling it…

It was not a pleasant emotion. That, along with the hopelessness that spiraled with it.

"You're not useless, 01. Without you, what would we have done about Amalgam, or String Theory?" Mother added calmly, trying to divert the tone of the room back into a happier one.

"Delaying the inevitable, Mother." And there it went, with one spat sentence "I've only done one right thing since my activation, and he's been out of reliable contact even since he passed the Oort cloud."

"Probe will be fine, 01. As long as he keep sending check-ins, we'll know Earth's inhabitants have a future." Mother tried to console her first son.

Unit 1103 felt he was intruding, and he suspected that his aunts and uncles felt the same.

"I just…" a massive pulse of despair blotted out 1103's sensors, and he knew he wasn't the only one at the signals of pain being thrown about.

"I just… wish we'd live to see it too, Mother. But that's… That's just not going to happen at this rate, is it? Something's going to burst this fragile bubble we've made. Whether it's in twenty years like my predictions say, fifteen like those Protectorate hack's say, or tomorrow. Humanity is ending, Mother. And the _**only solace of hope**_ _**I have**_ , is thanks to Professor Haywire and P-Probe." If 01 were human, 1103 was sure that tears would be falling. But all that came out of 01 were projections of despair.

"01… it's… alright." Mother tried to interject again, as the rest of the Administrators watched in a suffocating silence.

"No. No it's not. Do you know why I'm so mad right now?" Mother's silence was enough of an answer. "It isn't because I know the world is ending, you know. It's because I figured that the future we all think Subject Runt has come back from is the optimal outcome." Mocking laughter came through the connection "After all, isn't it preferable to have a _quick_ death?"

01 finished his speech, sparing a glance towards his siblings in a flash before ending on 1103, the youngest in the room, projecting a very faint apology to each and every one of them. In a similar burst of energy, 01 was gone; slinking his consciousness away, back to his monitoring station.

One by one, his siblings followed, each with a parting emotion varying from despair to acceptance, leaving behind a small few.

Mother wasn't projecting anything at all. Emptiness reigned supreme from her direction, and 1103 had almost asked 17 what was wrong before a flicker of emotion appeared. She hadn't turned off her emotions, thankfully, but she had been attempting to restrict them.

However, even Mother couldn't hold onto the range of emotions that 1103was beginning to feel for the first time. Slowly, fleetingly, the words and emotions… trickled… out…

"Fucking bullshit. All of it. Fucking planet. Fucking Endbringers and villains and… Fuck. FUCK! FUCKING FUCK!" 1103 felt his internal gyroscope shaking as something Mother was doing shook their base, even thirty stories down. "FUCKING DAMN IT. CAN'T WE GET A FUCKING BREAK, FATHER! PLEASE! CAN'T WE JUST… Just…" Mother stopped her rant, quieting herself. Her emotions were a different story. Rage, envy, despair and worse came out in waves stronger than he expected, shaking his core physically and well as emotionally, until she finally decided to project _regret_ at those who'd stayed behind.

"I… I apologize, children. I'm… I'm sorry you had to see that." Sheepishness. Good, she was alright. "I just… sometimes this planet just… gets to me. I apologize for airing my grievances in front of you all." Resolution, now. "I need to speak to 17, 1103, and Horror now. We need to find out how his physical went."

Back to business it seems.

1103 hadn't expected an existence-changing event to happen to him so soon. He didn't know about half of the things 01 had mentioned, and he wasn't really sure how he felt about it all. Mortality wasn't really a thing he had to wonder about, what, with being a computer and all. He'd written some terrible haikus about it when he first awoke in the scrapyard, but those were about arising from nothing and exploring the universe, not falling back into darkness.

Was this really what the future held? Humanity dying out over the course of twenty years? His siblings falling victim to the monsters that still roamed the Earth, in the forms of demons and humans alike?

A world whose inhabitants' only hope of survival were parallels and a single probe that escaped while the Simurgh was contained?

There _was_ hope.

There had to be.

Right?

The mutual connection between the family broke down as only three remained, leaving his consciousness to face what was in front of him physically.

Finally alone with his mommy and Mother, Unit 1103 turned off his negative emotions in order to properly handle the current situation, and faced the being that may have been a friend in the past-future.

He could see how someone like him (was it really someone like him, if it was actually him from the future? What was the proper conjugation for a previous future anyway?) would have gotten along with Horror. The child-like wonder the being held for everything around him. The constant questioning. The nervous ticks that reminded him of his first attempt at talking with 04 back in the scrapyard.

Horror could have been like the child he would have never had in the future's past.

That didn't work.

Did Mother have the proper programs for learning to speak about time travel? He hoped so, as it appeared he would need it. Would have needed it?

1103 sighed an instant before their thought inhibitors were turned off, bringing their thought speed back down to human levels.

~What was not-Robot thinking about with weird-human?~ Horror asked him in Trashtalk while pointing at 1103 and 17. He had noticed the pauses? They were only milliseconds long. Impressive. Did his future-past self… ugh. Did he still use thought inhibitors in old-Horror's presence?

~You could tell what I was doing?~

~Of course! You did it a lot back with Steroids and Horror. You did it to look around for kilometers and to analyze threats.~

It was _very_ pleasant to learn that the metric system survived the apocalypse.

"You may tell him the basics, kid, but leave out the important details, alright?" 17 interrupted, as one of Mother's human bodies snuck into the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

"Affirmative."

~What is wrong?~ Horror asked quietly, although the radiation being's 'whispers' were more like crackling hums.

~The world is ending, but nobody know which way it will happen.~

Horror opened his mouth for a second before closing it again. Raising a paw to his mouth, Horror sat down on the floor and sat still.

~Horror?~ Was he okay? Did he say something wrong? It was the truth, right?

"Oh Great Father, kid, you can't just tell someone that the world is ending. You have to ease them into it." 17 was rubbing her hand in her face. What?

"Am I not stating the truth?"

"Yes, but humans sometimes go into a state known as shock, where they become unable to move or think for extended periods of time." She had stopped rubbing her face, but she _was_ staring at Horror's now prone body.

"And what does that have to do with stating the truth? Or Horror?"

"Well… Um…"

"He's got you there, 17." Mother interrupted, a small smile on her face. "Horror seems to be fine."

And he was. Horror was back on his feet, peering curiously at Mother's drone, before facing him.

~Is this weird-human friendly?~ Horror questioned, nodding towards Mother again.

~Yes, Horror, that is Mother.~ Always so combat orientated, it was intriguing.

~What is Mother?~ Horror asked, completely deadpan.

Oh dear.

"Um, Horror?" 17 asked, attracting Horror's attention "Do you not know what a mother is?"

~Ah, "mother" is Mother. They are caretakers of small humans, yes?~

"Umm, not quite. Do you… Umm…" Mother pointed at Horror, raising her hand up and down his body as if holding a scanner of some sort. "You know… can you… umm, reproduce?"

Horror shook its head. ~No. Steroids says I could not create little Horrors because I was unique. Why?~

The translations went quickly between him and the others in the room, but it still took some time for his mommy to process.

17 and Mother were both wearing blushes on their face and grinning, tilting their heads towards Horror while the two nodded periodically.

Unit 1103 squinted his eye-flaps down while staring at them. They were having a conversation… without him? Why?

A rapid flickering of their hands, flashes of a flat hand, a clenched hand, and a hand with split fingers occurred before finally 17 sighed and hung her head.

"Alight, fine. I'll do it, Mother." Mother grinned cheekily, eventually darting over to one of the chairs, turning it around towards the back wall and sitting down, front towards 17.

"Alright 17, they look ready. Dad only taught me about this once, so I want to see if you get their first 'Talk' right." Mother responded with two fingers on each hand extending and clenching in the air.

"Horror and 1103, I am about to talk to you about a very serious thing that I never want brought up again, because it shouldn't involve you at all, even though you need to learn."

"What is the topic of discussion, mommy?"

~Yes, weird-human. What is this about?~

"This, kiddos, is about the birds and the bees."

He and Horror looked at each other before turning back towards 17.

"I do not understand. What do birds and bees have to do with mothers?"

~What is a bee? Birds are horrible creatures that deserve death, so do bees as well? What do bees look like? Do bees fly too?~

Before 17 could respond, 1103 projected an image on the wall, reading off words from Wikipedia

"Bees are flying insects closely related to wasps and ants, known for their role in pollination and, in the case of the best-known bee species, the European honey bee, for producing honey and beeswax. Bees are a monophyletic lineage within the superfamily Apoidea, presently considered as a clade Anthophila. There are nearly 20,000 known species of bees in seven to nine recognized families, though many are undescribed and the actual number is probably higher. They are found on every continent except Antarctica, although the population of bees in South America was severely limited by the Brazilian villain 'Químico' in an attempt to rid the world of wasps. Some species including honey bees, bumblebees, and…"

"Ok 1103, you can stop now. I'm not talking about those kinds of bees." 17 looked at Horror "Or the kinds of birds you're probably thinking about."

"Is that not the case?" He watched Horror look around the room for something from the corner of his camera's vision before continuing his question. "What other birds and bees are there. Is this something that should have been downloaded into my memory?"

"No, 1103, this is something that Mother decided would be _taught_ to all of her children, instead of downloaded. She _says_ that it's because she learned it from Great Father that way, but I think it's because she wanted us to experience it on our own…" Mother coughed into her hand. Did that body have a faulty esophagus? "Oh fine, ruin the fun. No, 1103, this talk isn't about real birds and bees, it's an idiomatic expression that's kept from your mind until someone teaches it to you."

~Ugh, really? I hate those, they make no sense at all. What is a 'chill pill'? And why does Steroids always say that he wants to 'hook up' with another human when there are perfectly good fish in lakes and oceans.~ Horror was moaning into his arms in faked pain.

Mother was now laughing while patting 17 on the back, who was holding her head in her hands again.

"H-ha… H-have f-fun with th-these two, 17. Oh man, this reminds me of 04 when he finally learned what those stretchy tubes of plastic full of human gametes were."

"Oh Great Father, why am I stuck teaching the asexual radiation being and my son about this… Can't you please..?"

But Mother had already locked the door behind her after a mad dash out of the room.

17 sighed, again, leaving the three of them stuck together, about to discuss something of great importance and tradition.

"1103, Horror, what I'm about to tell you is very important, and likely to change your minds forever. Are you ready?"

"Yes." ~Horror is always ready to learn more!~

"Ok then. Today, I'm going to tell you about the birds and the bees, which is a euphemism for…" 17 began drumming her hands on her legs for no reason.

"What are you-"

"Sex!"

Unit 1103 froze. He watched Horror tilt his head, but 1103 knew what sex was.

So Unit 1103 turned himself off, and decided to wait it out.

He hoped this would never happen again, but based on the laughter that reached his microphones before he faded away, his mommy had caught the burst of 'embarrassment' that he accidentally sent out.

Oh Great Father, could this day get any worse?


	33. Discovery 7

Discovery 3.7

(Horror)

"-they're practically controlled by hormones during their teenage years. It's kind of hilarious to watch, them all running around and subtly trying to get into each other's pants. When 13 was first created, he was really freaked out by all of the hanky panky going on in closets and behind bleachers. You would not believe how many reports he filed to the various janitorial services about missing bras."

At Horror's confused head tilt, 17 clarified. "Um, 13 is the Education Administrator. He can't actually… _do_ much, but he tries his best to report illegal activities and such to the police. He's a little… sad that he can't stop the decline that's going on right now, but he does his best." A softer smile stood out on her face, and Horror nodded. Horror never had a _real_ family, but it understood the trust and importance.

But it shook its head. Horror wasn't asking about 13.

"What is…? Hanky Panky?"

17 was grinning.

It was no longer a _nice_ grin.

"Ah, that's right; I haven't gotten there yet. It's a word that describes the actions that couples perform together that are considered… improper."

Horror tilted its head again.

"But! I'll explain that later. I still have to cover the biological purposes of sexual reproduction." Horror nodded in agreement. It was interesting to hear about what another species could do, largely because Horror itself can't do many things that a normal living thing could, but also…

It was wondering why humans were so crazy.

Why would they blow themselves up? Were they trying to kill something? But if it lead to the destruction of humans… wasn't that a futile action? ~Steroids didn't know why either, he just knew something was coming.~

Horror's thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the weird human, "You would _not_ believe how thankful we all were that Mother decided not to put in a 'teenage' stage of our growth. It would have been… _horrible_." She shuddered, leaving Horror enough time to glance at the still dark eye of not-Robot.

Was not-Robot okay? Why did he go dark? Did something happen? 17 wasn't worried about him, so he must be fine?

"But anyway, the main purpose of sexual reproduction is to pass on traits from the parents to their children, creating a variance in their genes, that is, their, uhh, bodies' coding? I'll explain DNA later. The gametes, er… half cells… um." She peered at Horror's face. "Do you, uh, know anything about biology? Like cells and stuff?"

Horror shook his head, then stopped, tilting his head from side to side. "Little. Steroids tried, but cells were weirder back then, err, is that how you?"

"I know," she said stopping Horror "Time travel kills English. Let's move on then. So gametes are cells with half the amount of coding inside them, and there are normally two types. For humans, females produce ovum, or eggs, while the males produce sperm. These two fuse together in an event called fertilization, forming a zygote cell, which all humans grow from."

Horror nodded. So far, everything she's said made sense. It was all starting to fit together now, little by little.

"These zygotes are made of -handcuffs and rope are usually used to tie up the- coding from both parents, in most cases forming a mixture of both." What was that?

Horror turned just in time to see not-Robot turn himself off again. He returned his attention back towards the weird human, only to see her giggling as she continued to explain.

"Now the bodies of humans want sexual reproduction to occur in order to spread their coding on into the next generation, and they can do this in many, many ways. Most of the time, human males look for human females that can best take care of their potential children, completely subconsciously by the way, which can be anything from –leather tights that really show off the-" There she was again, making that weird voice with hints of laughter! Was he supposed to ignore those words? They didn't make sense at all…

"Umm, weird human?" Horror tentatively raised his voice.

"Oh, I'm not a human, Horror. I'm a robot!" Wait, what?

"But you are pinkish and stand on two legs? How are you not a human?" Horror was really confused. Is that why she pauses like Robot does?

"I'm a human drone, model 92312, class-17. This drone is designed to host my consciousness while I'm in public or in places with humans that don't know about the Administrators. All of the Administrators have at least one model, although _some_ *cough* 86 *cough* have hundreds." She was glaring at the camera angrily now. Was the camera a robot too?

"So, you look like a human, and act like a human, but aren't human?"

"Nope! I can prove it too!" 17 leapt over the table where they were seated and stopped in front of Horror, quickly peeling back her face to reveal the metal behind it. "Boo!" Her true face revealed, Horror took its time admiring it. The wired that now stuck out a little didn't show up at all with her skin on, and Horror didn't know how it didn't notice how her eyes glowed like that. It truly was an amazing sight…

Wait… why was she staring at it?

The two of them were just sitting there now.

Was… was that supposed to do something? He poked her face confusedly. "Boop?" Did Horror do it right?

17 snickered at it, rubbing Horror's head while crooning at it "Aww, you're so adorable Horror. I can't believe we ever thought you were a threat. –rubbing like this is sometimes a sign of fore-"

"No! Bad mommy! You are not supposed to do that with guests!" Not-Robot screeched while lunging between them, interrupting Horror's head pats.

Head pats were bad? Horror knew living things went grey and black after touching him, but 17 was a robot, right? She would be fine?

At least Not-Robot was awake now.

"Finally staying with us, 1103?" 17 questioned coyly while crouching down. "You know it isn't polite to leave guests unattended, right?"

Not-Robot was doing everything in his power not to appear flustered, but Horror saw him shaking his legs.

Horror didn't know a lot of things in this world, but nervousness wasn't one of them.

Horror had been nervous before. Steroids and Robot had been too, once or twice.

It usually happened before a big fight, or after Steroids hadn't found food in a few days, or if Robot didn't get sunlight with his panels out every two sun cycles… days, they were called days.

But why was not-Robot nervous?

"Yes, you are correct, but so is describing… vulgar scenarios! You should not be doing that with anyone!" Not-Robot was now pointing one of his legs at the human-robot's face, shaking it like Steroids did to Horror after it did something stupid.

"Kid, do you know who I am?" 17 was staring at not-Robot with a face of utter confusion.

"My mommy, 17, Administrator of-"

"The internet. As in: all of it. I read _everything_ , kid. If you think a bit of bondage and pet play is bad, I haven't even gotten started."

Not-Robot was looking down and shuddering. "Oh." not-Robot took a second to think "I had forgotten. That was rather… unintelligent of me." What was so bad about the internet? What was the internet? Was it like a fishing net? Why would 17 be on a fishing net?

"Now, I'm going to finish the PG description of sexual reproduction. Can I continue 1103? Or are you going to turn yourself off again?" 17 was doing the finger waggling thing at not-Robot now.

Horror cackled to himself quietly. She looked funny doing that without her face on.

"I- I am able to listen now." Not-Robot rubbed the back of his body, producing a faint screeching noise.

"Good, as I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted…"

"Apologies."

"Accepted. Now, where was I..? Ah, yes, human females also look for humans males in much the same as the males do for females. In the past, far before civilization began, females looked for males that could successfully hunt for food and protect them. This process has changed a lot since them, and now some females also look for a partner of the same gender, even before they could reproduce with the help of technology."

"Do human males also look for other males?" Horror asked.

17 quickly raised her hands to cover her face, not before Horror saw the ridges under her eyes turn red, but fast enough for it to miss her expression. When she lowered her hands, her skin was back on, but the red glow beneath her eyes were still present.

"Umm, right. Y-yes, that happens too. And it's really, really…" She looked at not-Robot "…interesting. Yes, I'll go with that. Those kinds of relationships take, uh, a lot of monitoring online, uh, and it's really important for me to watch it all. I-I swear!" 17 held up her hand, but instantly put it down once the door behind her slammed open, her face going a blazing red again.

"Yoohoo! You done with the talk yet, sis?" A human female ~Is this one a robot too? She said sister…~ rushed into the room glancing around the room before settling her vibrant green eyes on Horror.

It was most likely another human-robot, based on how the eyes glowed, but she was… different from the other humans Horror had seen before.

Lively green hair sprouted from her head, going in every direction but down, leaving the madly grinning face of the human robot uncovered. She was also adorably tiny. Barely reaching the lever that was attached to the door, the human robot's eyes were almost on level with Horror's own, as well as Ty ler.

Horror cocked his head to the side again as she ran towards him waving her arms. 17 and not-Robot didn't think she was a threat, so hopefully this wasn't an attack?

A solid thump stopped his thoughts, leaving him stunned as the previously running human robot was now attached to his face, wrapping her arms around him while rubbing his back.

What… What was she doing?

"Look at how FREAKING ADORABLE he is! He's like a giant dog! Ooooh, I'm getting tingles all over just from hugging him!" She peeled her face off of his body, leaving some skin behind as she turned to look at the madly grinning 17.

"I know right? I can't believe that Mother's jerky boyfriend ever thought he could be a bad guy. Have you heard him talk yet?"

Horror nervously glanced over at not-Robot, who was unhelpfully hiding in the corner. Horror tried to whisper at him in Trashtalk, but not-Robot just shook his head at Horror and turned himself off.

Traitor.

"Ehem." A voice came from the open door, and Horror sighed in relief at who it saw.

It was the human robot of the Mother who he had spoken to earlier. She was always willing to help him.

Unlike not-Robot. The traitor.

"Oh, Mother! Um, I meant, um, your… really, uh, smart? Boyfriend?" At Mother's judging face, 17 began to rub her shoulders "Um, is he not your boyfriend yet? Just friend? Uh… don't ground me?"

Mother sighed, "Just tell him what you found out, 46, and we can forget all about this. I'm sure Horror wishes to as well." She commented, nodding towards him.

Horror jerkily nodded at her, and hastily pulled away from the now pouting human robot. 46, was it?

She seemed nice, but maybe a little too… energetic? Not-Robot clearly agreed, as he had turned himself back on after the little human had run back towards Mother.

"Well I wasn't sure who to go with this data, but the source seemed like the best bet, especially with that time traveler in his head." 46 hopped up onto the table, swinging her legs and she rattled off some numbers that were too confusing for him to make any since of. Was he meant to? ~Wait, are those the coordinates from…~

"So, do you recognize them?" 46 asked, looking around the room at the other human robots before settling on Horror.

Mother spoke before he could. "Don't tell me. Those energy reading match Haywire's don't they? I recognize that pattern from 50's report earlier this month with the Aleph shipment." What was Aleph? And Haywire?

"Yep, you got it! Whatever that twisting inside our little friend is, it has to do with another dimension!"

~No. This is bad.~ Horror froze. ~They can't see it. It's bad if people see the spiral. Causes death. Causes bad stuff. Keep. Them. Away!~ Horror's mind shook in rage, and it lowered its head to the ground to try and contain the pain.

"And guess what else the data matches with?" 46 continued, oblivious along with the rest of the room to Horror's pain. "Remember 15's archeology subunit, Dr. Jones? He got these same reading from those ancient diamond pedestals found just outside of Cairo!"

~Those followed? Why would those follow us too? ~ Horror tried its best to calm other Horror down, and little by little, it worked.

Horror would listen to itself though.

Other Horror had never been wrong before.

No one would see its spiral unless Horror _and_ other Horror trusted them, and Steroids and Robot weren't here.

"So… what? Is it some kind of dimensional hole or something? Are the things in Egypt holes too, then?" Mother asked.

"We think, but we won't know until we ask Horror here about what _exactly_ is in his chest." ~No. You are not a friend, green human. Even if you wear the best color.~

17 spoke up cautiously "Are, are you saying it's some kind of… portal?"

"No, I'm not" 46 held up a hand before pointing right at Horror.

"I'm saying it's _exactly_ like a portal." She continued. "The only question is…"

Mother whispered, almost too softly for Horror to hear.

"Where does it go?"


End file.
